


Pendulum

by Yokan



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Klaus/Rose, Klaus/Tatia, Klaus/Vincent/Eva !!!!, Minor Klaus/Hayley, Some Caroline/Stefan, Some Caroline/Tyler, Some Klaus/Aurora, Some Klaus/Camille, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 09:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17805806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yokan/pseuds/Yokan
Summary: Every time Klaus Mikaelson dies, he always returns to the beginning, a child in London with all the knowledge of a life lived a dozen times before. Nothing ever changes including the fact that, no matter how hard he tries, he can never save Caroline Forbes’ life for too long. [Klaroline. AU/AH with a slight magical twist.]





	1. When I was done dying

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I feel like this one needs a few warnings regarding the very confusing tags. Bear with me.
> 
> It has character death (as evidenced by the summary), but I chose not to use the AO3 warning because it's... complicated. However, there is character death, so proceed at your own peril. You've been warned.
> 
> There are also minor references to abusive relationships and suicide. If those things are triggers for you, PLEASE be careful. It's minor, but it's there (and it also involves some really brief Damon-bashing. If you're a Damon lover, here's your warning).
> 
> About the massive number of pairings: this story is set over a VERY LONG PERIOD OF TIME, hence the amount of relationships. I promise it makes sense. Rest assured that this is absolutely a Klaroline story, from start to finish. So even though there are mentions of different pairings, none of them are major.
> 
> As always, I remind you that English is not my first language and that the story has not been beta'ed. I apologize for any mistakes you might find. Really sorry! :( There are more notes at the bottom I encourage you to read, but enough for now!

_We were worlds apart_  
_So I fell from the stars_  
_I travelled long and I travelled far_  
_Then deep in the dark_  
_I followed a spark_  
_And it led straight to your heart_  
_There'll be so many years to pass_  
_There'll be others with greener grass_  
_But I'll stick through it_  
_Oh, I swear_  
_There'll be exits along the road_  
_There'll be so many ways to go_  
_But I'll stick to it_  
_Oh, I swear_  
  


* * *

  
  
It's 9:47 in the morning when Caroline boards the train.

From his seat, Klaus smiles. By now he knows that the reason behind Caroline's panting and slightly disheveled appearance - flushed cheeks, wet clothes, messy hair - is that there are exactly two minutes and 26 seconds before the train departures. She was running late. She is always late. That is one of the things that never change.

So many things have been different for Klaus in the past… Well, honestly, he's lost track of time. It's useless to count in as small a scale as days and months and years. Months and years get lost and mixed up very easily in his memory. He prefers to count in lifetimes. It's easier.

It's been now fifteen lifetimes since he last watched this scene unfold before him, but the details of it have remained as clear as daylight in his mind. He remembers that twitch of irritation on Caroline's lips, the pinch between her eyebrows, the way she mutters a curse under her breath as she finally makes it to the train. As in every lifetime before, nothing disturbs Caroline more than being made to lose her poise. Personally, Klaus thinks she still looks as graceful as ever, even in a rare moment of disarray, but he's never mentioned it to her before, and he certainly won't start doing it now for a lot of reasons, most of which are just horrible, but the main one being that Klaus finds it fascinating to watch her like this - untidy, not completely put-together, unaware that she's being watched. He wouldn't want to change a thing about it.

It's a lot like watching a movie he's already seen a thousand times, but not in a while, and yet somehow can still recall every scene, every line of dialogue, every tiny little detail. Klaus can narrate exactly what Caroline will do even before she decides to do it.

She will comb her wet hair with her fingers a little, then fish the train ticket out of the pocket on the right side of her coat, read the number on it, lift her head to look around the car and situate herself. Once she confirms she's in the correct car, she will take a step forward, lips slightly parted as her eyes roam around the rows of seats, reading the numbers written on the panel above to search for hers.

She'll take about ten seconds to locate it, which gives Klaus just enough time to turn his face towards the window and pretend he hadn't been paying rapt attention, dying a little bit on the inside as the woman of his life - of all his lives - walks down the train corridor to occupy the spot exactly in front of him. A small, narrow table is the only thing separating the two of them, but the gap feels impossibly larger. A gap the size of the world, of 15 lifetimes, standing as a wall between them.

Klaus sucks the air in through his nose in a failed attempt to hide his displeasure and stop his heart from beating so fast, punching violently against his ribcage.

When their eyes meet - casually for Caroline, anything but for Klaus - she forces a small smile to the stranger in front of her in spite of her glaring irritation. She is nothing if not polite. Miss Mystic Falls through and through.

Klaus smiles back, soft and warmly. There's a possibility his knowing grin will seem strange to her - maybe too familiar, maybe too creepy - but it doesn't matter. Not this time, anyway. Not anymore. Klaus won't be sticking around, so it won't make a difference. This time, he'll be just another face on the train, just another stranger to cross Caroline's path. In a few days or maybe even hours this random encounter will be completely forgotten, obliterated from her mind like it never even happened.

It he says the cold truth of that doesn't make him feel a bit of a pang somewhere, he'll be lying. But things are what they are, and he's had several lifetimes to get used to their Shakespearean tragedy, to the bittersweetness of this casual meeting on the 9:50 train to Cardiff that always changes everything.

He's been through all the existing steps of grief, and then some. There's been anger, disappointment, denial, revolt, indignation, even depression. He's worked through it all because he didn't have a choice, because the alternative was much worse. Now he is ok with it. As ok as he could ever hope to be. He's learned the hardest possible way to accept the things that he cannot change. There are forces in this universe that are stronger than even the love he has for that woman, although it certainly doesn't feel like it's possible. Life - or rather, death - have proved him wrong.

He just had to see Caroline again. One last time.

Klaus is here to say goodbye. This time, for good.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

He met Caroline in his fourth life.

The 21st of April of 2018 is always a rainy and cold Tuesday. The date hadn't particularly stood out in any of Klaus' previous three lives, but he did recall that it was meant to be a wet week. That is relevant because it means he remembered to take an umbrella before he left his flat, so he didn't have to run the last few hundred meters to the train station when it started pouring.

Caroline wasn't so lucky.

From this point on, until the very last second of his very last life, the 21st of April of 2018 of his fourth life becomes the most memorable day of all of Klaus' lives.

He bought a second class ticket for the 9:50am train to Cardiff. That's where Klaus was born, 28 or 202 years before at that point, depending on how you're counting. Klaus' fourth life was when he decided to go back to his origins in search of an explanation for his quaint...  _condition_.

There are certain stages a person like him goes through, especially in the first few restarts. There's a lot of confusion, a lot of pain, a lot of loneliness. It takes a while for a reborn to get back to his best senses and learn how to cope with feelings and sensations and memories that are not actually from the current life he's living, but pieces that linger from the ones he had before. It's hard to figure out how to get a grip on that, how to differentiate the now from the before. Everything feels like a déjà vu, like his going mad, like there are different people living inside of him. It's especially hard when you're alone, with no one to guide you through it, like he was. It can drive the sanest of men out of his mind, literally.

It happened to him on his second life.

By his fourth, already in control of his faculties and clear of the paralyzing fear caused by incomprehension, Klaus decided to go back to the start. There were no guarantees that he'd find answers there, but it seemed like as good a place to start as any. There was something pulling him towards Cardiff. Some strange drive telling him he'd find what he was looking for there.

He didn't understand it then, wouldn't for several lifetimes yet, that the force was Caroline.

Researching the nature of reborns is tricky. There isn't much to start from and it's not like you can find more than a few records of ancient legends from the XV or XVI centuries in the depths of the internet. In spite of how big the libraries in London are, there was also nothing in any of the ones he'd gone to in his previous three lives. Back then Klaus didn't know, but he gets it now that the vagueness and the secrecy are all part of minute security measures. The harder to find the reborns, the safer they are.

He never found anything in Cardiff to answer his questions - much, much later, Klaus would come to realize that his  _condition_  has nothing to do with genetics or birthplace or magnetic fields, star alignments or anything of the sort. It's more like... Luck. Random luck. Or bad luck, depending on who you ask. Some reborns think it's a gift, and it surely feels like it is in many occasions. Other times, however...

Personally, Klaus thinks of it as much more of a curse.

However useless for research purposes Cardiff turned out to be, the decision to go there on that particular day was by far one of the best he ever made, in all of his lives.

He boarded the train, put his wet umbrella aside and took his seat by the window. He was thinking of the possible connections between quantum physics and ancient magic when a woman got on in a hurry, some ten minutes later. She was wet and miserable, but Klaus was too distracted by his own musings to offer more than two seconds of his attention to her.

Then she took the spot right across from him, offered him a quick smile as though saying  _I really don't want to be rude but I'm having a terrible day and cannot be arsed to be any nicer than this at the moment so here, have a smile, sir_  and proceeded to remove her sodden coat. There were a few grunts as the woman assessed the state of her mobile, which had been on the inside pocket of her coat.

"Shit," came the loud expletive when she realized her battery was dead. She's an American, Klaus realized, which kind of made her a little more interesting than a second before. She touched the screen, pressed all buttons in a vain attempt to bring the phone back to life. When none of it worked, she left the thing on the table and slumped back against her seat, eyes closed, letting out a heavy, tired gust of air in a clear sign of dejection. Klaus remembers that was the point when he started feeling sympathetic; it was easy to see things weren't exactly stellar for that woman, whatever the reason.

"Here," he said. The woman opened her eyes and gave him a surprised look, almost as though she'd forgotten there was a person sitting across from her. "Use mine."

She glanced from the phone in Klaus' hands, back to his face. Maybe because he'd been around or maybe because it was just too obvious, Klaus could see the inner battle going on in her head between the side that was distrustful of strange men offering her things, wanting to turn down his offer politely and go back to pretending he was not there, and the side that just wanted to snatch the phone away and start dialing.

As a form of incentive, he smiled and put the phone down on the table, pushing it towards her so she wouldn't have to take it directly from his hand. "It's all right, love," he said. "Go ahead."

She bit on the corner of her lip and, with a slight shake of her head, finally took the mobile. "Thank you," she said around a sigh of pure relief. "It won't take long, I promise."

"Take as long as you need."

As the woman talked rapidly on the phone, Klaus took a moment to actually  _look_  at her for the first of many, many times. It had somehow escaped him as she came in and sat down, but she was stunning. Blue eyes, perfect lips painted on a light shade of pink, cheeks red from all the exertion, blond locks framing her beautiful face. She was gorgeous. Still is. A classic and timeless sort of beauty that has inspired many things in Klaus, including some of the best paintings he's ever done.

He self-consciously touched his own face. The first time he ever met Caroline, he felt so below par for the occasion – a mistake he made sure not to repeat from then on. He hadn't shaved out of sheer laziness, grabbed the first thing he found in the closet, didn't even fuss with his hair too much. After three lifetimes of getting used to your own face, you kind of stop paying that much attention to your looks. Besides, he had no idea he'd be running into the love of his life on that nondescript trip to Wales.

Truth be told, Klaus knows he's not hard on the eye. He's been told so, several times, by several different people, under the most varied circumstances. In front of Caroline, however, he was always made to feel like he should up his game. Whatever she wears, whatever she does with her hair, whether she puts make up on or not, she always seems so perfectly put together. Then again, it doesn't just put Klaus to shame, it puts most people as well.

Her phone call lasted for almost five minutes - Klaus tried not to pay too much attention, but it was impossible. He turned his face away so she wouldn't feel pressured to end the call fast and also to give her some modicum of privacy, however flimsy, but his ears were all hers. She was explaining to someone that she got delayed on an early morning meeting and would be a little late for a conference she was supposed to be attending in Cardiff. Klaus' face remained perfectly blank while he stared out the window, but he was bewildered by the enticing combination of different accent and attractive face. It made him want to take her words into his mouth - with his tongue.

"Thank you so much," she said, giving his phone back with a much bigger, honest smile now, obviously more relaxed. Sometimes all a person needs to have a bad day improved is a simple and unexpected act of kindness. That's perhaps the most important trick Klaus has come to learn in his hundreds of years of living the same life over and over again. It's not something that comes easily to him - Klaus is known to have a short temper and a bit of a mean streak, which is perfectly natural for someone in his condition; the first thing to go when you're made to relive the same things time and time again is patience - but some people, more especial and rare, just awaken this side of his. Caroline has always made him want to do better, to be better, just to be worthy of her. And it started on the very first time they met, when she was still just a random person on a train.

"No problem," he replied. "It looked important."

"Yeah, it was. But that was very nice of you anyway."

Klaus smiled. "You're welcome, then," he said, and then put one hand out for her to shake. "Klaus."

"Caroline," she offered, taking his hand with a firm grip.

"Caroline," he repeated, tasting the way her name rolled off his tongue like a song. It suited her so perfectly he felt he could've guessed it on his own. "That's a beautiful name."

She chuckled. "Thank you. It's my mother's middle name. And my middle name is my mother's first name. We're not a very creative bunch in Virginia, I guess – and I have no idea why I just told you all that, you didn't even ask. God, I can't stop talking. I'm so sorry. It's this thing I do when I feel anxious – I open my mouth and things just come out, I don't even know – you know what, I'm just gonna shut up now." She snaps her mouth shut for a second, biting on her lower lip, and then, "But thanks. For the phone. And also the compliment."

And just like that, Klaus was hooked.

They didn't stop talking for the next two hours. Caroline told him about his job as the manager of an art gallery, about the exhibition she was helping to put together in Cardiff, about how much she loved the bay area and the Millennium Center - which Klaus admitted, not without some embarrassment, he had never seen in person, or at least didn't remember seeing it, in spite of having been born there. Caroline told him about Mystic Falls, the tiny little Virginia town where she was born, and how she'd ended up crossing the Atlantic in pursuit of a degree in arts.

Klaus didn't say much in return; the truth is his life was not that interesting, if you disconsider the part about living in a perpetual loop through the same course of time. Which - well, it would easily be the prime topic of conversation ever, if only he could mention it and not sound like a lunatic. He tried it in his second life, to his parents. It got him admitted to a mental institution from where he did not come out alive. Needless to say, he was never keen on repeating the experience.

Instead, he talked to her about their common interest in art, about the amateur landscapes and portraits he likes to paint to pass the time - and work out the stress and the incessant rage inside of him, but he left out that part for obvious reasons. He talked about how he was going back to Cardiff for the first time since he was three, when his father took a job in London, not leaving a lot behind to remember. He didn't mention  _why_  or  _what_  he expected to find - only that he thought it was ridiculous to call himself Welsh, support Wales in the European championship, and not know the country at all. Caroline laughed and admitted she wasn't into  _soccer_ , Klaus grimaced at the word, and then they launched into a lively argument about how  _American football_  makes no sense and how wrong it is to call the sport you actually play with your foot  _soccer_. "It's not even a word! What the hell does it mean?"

It was silly, but it got Caroline laughing and talking, passionately. She was a fierce defender of her mother land, and Klaus realized he could just sit back and watch her go on for hours and hours and never get tired of the sound of her voice or the sparkle in her eyes or the way she gesticulated and scoffed whenever he said something particularly insulting to her American pride.

There was an awkward moment on the platform, when they finally got off the train. After two hours of uninterrupted conversation, they ran out of words. Or rather, they knew what they were supposed to say -  _"It was a pleasure to meet you, have a nice day, goodbye"_  -, they just weren't sure they wanted to.

It's not always Klaus meets someone with whom conversations flow so easily, so effortlessly. It's only ever happened a handful of time. After a while, he developed quite the skill of conversing with even the flattest, most uninteresting people in the world. A friend once said Klaus could talk his way out of hell - and it's probably true. Conversation is information and information is power. Still, feeling comfortable around unfamiliar people is a rarity no matter how many lives he lives.

Reborns are probably the loneliest creatures on earth. There's a barrier between them and everyone else, something that sets them apart in the most fundamental ways. Most people just bore the hell out of him. It's inevitable to want to stick around the rare exciting few.

At that point, however, Klaus didn't understand all that very well yet. There was still a lot of hesitancy on his part, a lot of trust issues he couldn't overcome. So it was Caroline who broke the deadlock.

"Can I have your phone again, please?" she asked.

"Sure." Klaus shrugged and passed her the mobile.

She typed in a number, took the phone to her ear and said, "Hi! It's Caroline. Remember to call me later."

"Here," she said, grinning as she gave him the phone back, their fingers brushing together for just a second, enough to send jolts up Klaus' arm. "Thank you again."

Klaus blinked, a little dazed, a lot upset about the fact she was about to walk away. "You're welcome."

"I really have to go now. I'd offer to buy you some gratitude coffee, but..." she trails off, pursing her lips apologetically.

Klaus nodded, a wan smile on the corner of his lips. "It's all right, love."

"Thank you, Klaus," she continued, shaking his hand and holding on to it for just a little longer than necessary. "That was a very pleasant train ride. I wish they were always like this."

"Well, I hope you meet another fine gentleman on your ride back, then," he said, good-heartedly, although his wish wasn't all that honest.

They bid farewell and went each their own way.

Klaus stopped to grab some lunch in a restaurant by the bay and spent the rest of the day getting acquainted with Caroline's favorite spot. It didn't take long for it to become one of Klaus' favorite places in the world. It was beautiful, just as she said it would be. Not in an obvious manner, like Paris or Rome. Cardiff has a different sort of charm, its buildings and little streets oozing personality. It's a proud and strong city, much like its children - even the ones that are raised miles and miles away, Klaus realized with amusement. He saw much of himself in those dark bricks and muddy bay waters, so much more than he ever saw in London, a city he knew like the back of his hand but that never felt quite  _his_.

Later in the day, his mobile rang and it was Caroline, sheepishly admitting that the last number she'd called was her own.

Sometimes they agree to have lunch the next day. Sometimes it's a bar for a couple of drinks (which sometimes ends up in breakfast). Sometimes it's an old pub with warm beer and cold food, and it's still somehow perfect.

This time, however, the first time, in Klaus' fourth life, they had dinner that same night.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

What Klaus knows is this: he is always born on the 30th of May of 1991. He never gets to see much more beyond 2071, the same way he doesn't know anything of what went on before the 90s other than through history books. The historical events through which he lives from his birth to his death are always the same, generally speaking, and, from the moment he leaves his mother's womb to the moment his body takes its last shuddering breath, his life is pretty much the same as everyone else's. The difference lies in what happens after that.

Death isn't the end for Klaus' kind - he now knows he isn't alone, that there are others with his same condition. There isn't a name for what they are, but Klaus tried calling themselves The Originals. It was meant as a joke but the older members of his little club of extraordinary people made sure to point out their displeasure. They pretend it's for ideological reasons that they refute nicknames or distinctions that might identify them as a unity or a species.  _"It could be dangerous,"_  they say.  _"Can you imagine what they'd do to us if they knew there are people living out there carrying knowledge of the future?"_  And, well. They have a point. It is potentially problematic to get uncovered. But they're just lacking in sense of humor. Klaus likes the idea of them as a secret society dating almost as far back as the human race itself. They're the real masters of earth, the first of their kind, controlling the paths of humanity.

And, anyway, no one knows for sure what they are, how they came to be, so his is as good a guess as any.

From time to time, one of them decides to go rogue and revolt against the  _Complexity Is Your Excuse For Inaction_  rule. Because it's too hard to predict what will happen if they interfere too much with the course of events, they simply don't do anything. Changing election results, stopping great catastrophes, building technology way before its time, killing someone who's supposed to do something important before they do it... It can get hard to explain  _why_  you're not supposed to kill Hitler or alert someone of the terrorists waiting to board airplanes across America on 9/11. Some people have tried it before, of course they have. But the consequences are always cataclysmic. Certain things are like fixed points in time; they're there for a reason. Not all of them are good, but it is what it is. Mess with it and you risk starting something much, much worse, totally unpredictable, out of anyone's control and with possible long lasting repercussions.

Time is such a fragile and volatile thing; hassle too much with it and it will certainly come back to bite you in the ass. And if you stop an  _original_  from being born before he comes to the world, like say killing the mother before the baby is born, that original will never be born again. That's how you finish them, for good - you stop them from being reborn  _before_  they are, in any given life. And if there's one thing reborns do is look out for each other. If you change the timeline, you might prevent the birth of other originals, and that, simply putting it, is murdering your own kind, which is an absolutely unacceptable offense. They're free to do almost whatever they want with their lives - want to be a pimp? a criminal? sell drugs? go to war? steal a bank? All fine. Kill as many common people as you want, they'll always be back where they started when you revive anyway. But  _do not_  mess with the Special Ones. That is the one back-off point, period.

Still, no amount of warnings is enough to stop all of them from taking their chances to interfere directly with the future every now and again, either intentionally or by accident, for noble purposes or complete dire ones. Killing Hitler before the war doesn't stop the mass deportation of Jews, it only makes the Nazi believe they have an  _honorable_  reason to keep going, thus making death camps more violent and even faster in the elimination of its prisoners. Kill baby Hitler and an even worse monster will rise to take his place. That's how it goes. Even the best of intentions can go wrong when you bend the rules. Interference can only happen in small scales - save lives close to you, find a way of helping those in need, by all means, get rid of that knobhead of a neighbor you can't stand to look at. But do not try to simply change the entire course of history.

In the end, as long as nothing too extreme happens, it doesn't matter much. The so called  _cataclysms_  that alter the future in drastic manners, preventing the birth of hundreds of reborns, have only happened twice, as far as the knowledge of the reborns go, and both many, many centuries before Klaus' time. Being things as they are now, as soon as Klaus dies that timeline immediately ceases to exist to him and, when he comes back, everything will be exactly as it was before. It's like being resurrected in a new alternate universe that starts out exactly like the one before, and only the future decisions he and other reborns make on that particular timeline will change what comes after.

The science of it all is a little hard to grasp because it's not based on any sort of logic, but then again, mother nature has secrets and reasons human's ignore. Some things just are. That is what Klaus has come to accept as the truth about what he is.

Klaus' life changes from loop to loop because he doesn't always do the same things, doesn't always meet the same people or go to the same places. His first three lives were sheer madness.

The first one remains as the most unique out of them all. It was the only life Klaus got to spend in its entirety as an ordinary person, sharing all of the same fears and insecurities and frustrations of the average mortal human being. It was completely undistinguished. Nothing remarkable about it, at all. But Klaus keeps the memories close to his heart. Those days were far easier and more innocent.

There's a certain beauty in experiencing life with that sort of fresh eyes, not knowing what lies ahead every step of the way. First day of school, learning how to write and read, his first trip to the beach, his first kiss... Klaus got to live through these things at least 25 times, but it was never the same as the first. Reborns are incredibly frustrated ancient souls trapped in infants' bodies, desperately waiting for the day when they won't need the help of their parents to get by anymore. No one can imagine how hard it is to spend years every single time trying not to act like a prodigy with skills way ahead of his age. That is usually how you attract unwanted attention, and it can sometimes freak people out. Klaus has heard countless stories of people who had to spend entire lifetimes as lab monkeys, being studied, dissected and explored 'till the day they died. Humans are the cruelest of beings when they feel threatened and usually what threatens them is the possibility of having anything out there that might be stronger or more evolved than they are. The whole thing about  _love_  and  _happiness_  being the main goals in anyone's lives is bollocks told to satisfy the needs of common people; put  _power_  in front of a man and you'll see his true form.

For all the direction Klaus' first life lacked, there was also a kind of happiness he never managed to replicate. Oblivion is much underestimated, in his opinion.

On his original life, his first kiss happened at the age of 12. Her name was Tatia and she was beautiful, but, nice though she was, she was never his first kiss again. He just couldn't be arsed to go through that phase of his life, especially with 12 year-olds. It only ever makes sense when you don't know what you're doing and a pretty enough girl comes along and you think 'Yeah, ok, it could happen'. Once your standards become way higher, that sort of time-wasting thing loses all of its sparkle. But Tatia still gets to be the first of his firsts. Klaus doesn't remember all his first kisses, but he does remember her.

His first girlfriend, however, is frequently still the same. Genevieve is stunning and totally mad about him, which makes it easy to get to her. They meet through a common friend when he's 18 and, in his first life, they stuck together for a few years. After that first life, however, they only ever got together because he was bored waiting for the train trip where he'd meet the only girl he really wanted to kiss. He couldn't sit around for almost three decades doing nothing every time. He might not be entirely human in certain aspects, but he still goes through very hormonal phases in puberty and his physical needs are the same as anyone else's. Remaining celibate for 27 years is just not an option.

He met the woman with whom he spent most of his first life with at a Christmas party in 2019. Back then, Klaus genuinely thought what he felt for Hayley was love. Of course he had no idea of what he was yet, was only as old as his birth certificate stated, and an easily impressionable young man.

They got married three years later and stayed that way for 15 years, when Hayley met a much younger lad by the inspiring name of  _Jackson_  and got on a place to live in a swamp in Louisiana. Klaus got a letter from her two years later with a lame apology that did nothing but infuriate him all over again.

That was Klaus' first ever heartbreak. It was  _bad_  and made him grumpy and disenchanted with life, but, in hindsight, it wasn't all that terrible. He's had much worse since. It was, however, enough to guarantee that he never, ever wanted to see Hayley's face again. He's over all that now, but Hayley was a dark stain in his only normal, completely human life, so he does hold a bit of a grudge, maybe.

Klaus wonders how different things might have been on his following lives if Hayley had never left him. Maybe the one event he'd keep going back to would be that Christmas party instead of the 9:50 train to Cardiff. He should probably thank her one day. Just track her down, shake her hand on the street and say  _'Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy your swamp'_  and walk away.

Then came his second life and everything he went through with Hayley was put under perspective. Klaus would rather go through a 1000 Hayleys than anything like his second life gain. It still haunts him, 20 lifetimes later. To this day, it is, by some distance, the most harrowing of them all. It changed him, forever. Shaped who he is, made him more aggressive, distrustful, paranoid even. It also holds the record for his youngest death: only 15.

The first rebirth is the hardest one. The memories start coming back around the age of three. By the time he's five, he can already remember everything. Imagine being a five year-old with perfect recollection of pain, agony, fear - and  _death_. He remembered being stuck in a hospital bed for weeks, going in and out of surgeries, before his heart finally gave in, at the age of 80.

Imagine remembering being 80 when you're only five.

Needless to say, it wasn't a happy childhood.

Klaus suffered with horrible migraines that would last for days and leave him completely incapacitated, cried all the time, woke up shaking and screaming almost every night because of the nightmares that weren't really nightmares at all, but memories coming back to him, loud and clear as though it had all happened yesterday. He was afraid of everything, even his own shadow made him jumpy.

The first ten years of his second existence were spent cruising from clinic to clinic and doctor to doctor and no one could tell what was wrong with him, no one could  _understand_. From a medical point of view, he was perfectly healthy. Even the heaviest doses of medication didn't seem to erase all traces of the mysterious disease that afflicted him.

His father became more and more impatient, yelling that his son was a weakling and a freak. He'd sometimes leave and stay away for weeks. Klaus could hear his mother crying in her room, in the middle of the night, asking herself where she'd gone wrong. So on top of his personal hell, there was also the guilt for ruining his family, driving his father away, making his mother cry. It was too much. Klaus committed to curing himself whichever way he could, by whatever means - but absolutely nothing worked.

When he was twelve, a psychiatrist finally recommended that he was admitted into a facility for people with severe cases of mental disorder. They couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with him, but the most commonly accepted theory was that his was an early and very rare development of acute schizophrenia.

He didn't fight it when his parents signed the papers. And he never came home from the facility.

His memories from that time are both terrible and hazy. They kept him heavily sedated and tied down to a bed for the largest part of the first few years due to 'aggressive behavior'. In a way, it was best that they did that. Klaus' days were hell, but at least it's hard to remember anything with clarity, with so many drugs clouding his thoughts.

One day, three years after his admission, when they were convinced Klaus was making progress and did not pose as a threat to his fellow crazy inmates or himself, he managed to steal a knife from the kitchen. He went for the femoral artery and bled out before anyone knew what was happening. Dying never felt quite as much as a relief as it did that second time. He was finally free.

And then he came back, again.

His third life was calmer. It wasn't such a terrible shock when the memories started to come back, but the trauma of his second life was much harder to process than his harmless original life. Klaus still had no idea what was happening to him, what all that meant, but at least he already knew what to expect, enough to avoid the outbursts that could lead to false schizophrenia diagnosis.

The result was that in his third life, Klaus was a much quieter boy. He was smart, of course, because he could do things no other kid his age could, and he was as lovely to his parents as he could muster without throwing up, tried not to give them a single day of trouble. But he spent most of his time alone, secluded, in silent meditation. Before the internet became a useful tool, Klaus would stay for hours and hours hidden in the depths of libraries all over London, researching. He found some evidence that he wasn't alone, that there were more people like him - it wasn't anything documented, but signs and messages that only knowing eyes could understand and identify. It was barely anything, not much at all in terms of clarification, but it made Klaus hopeful.

In his third life, he became a professor. Never married, never had any long lasting partners, stirred clear off relationships deeper than work colleagues. There were some affairs here and there, but nothing meaningful, nothing that stood out or left a mark in him. All his time was dedicated to research and teaching, which he found incredibly therapeutic. Discussing the problems of paradoxes and time travel with people who could only conceive the idea in theory was a wonderful way to pass the time and also to try and theorize what the hell was going on.

The quietness of his third life meant that Klaus could finally come to terms with what he was in spite of his lack of comprehension and, by the time he felt his last days were approaching, he started making plans for his next life, assuming that it would happen again. What he'd do, where he'd go.

The first thing he decided was that he'd spend some time in Cardiff, the one place he hadn't dared to touch so far.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Caroline died on a Wednesday in September.

Three and a half years after the journey on the 9:50 train to Cardiff, Klaus was waiting for her at home with dinner when he got the call from the hospital. The food had grown cold already and Caroline wasn't answering her phone, but Klaus wasn't too worried. She frequently had to work overhours at the gallery and, regardless of how many lives of attempts you give Apple, iPhones always have shitty batteries. It wouldn't be the first time Caroline missed dinner because of a last minute piece that had to be catalogued or something of the sort.

Only this time it was nothing like that.

Klaus never found out who the person on the other end was - if it was a police officer, or a doctor, or a social worker - but the exact words spoken to him are still vivid on his mind. "Miss Forbes has been in an accident. We understand you are the only person listed as her emergency contact in the country, Mr. Mikaelson, so we need you to come to the hospital as soon as possible, please." There was a pause, the longest one in Klaus' life, during which everything felt suspended and his heart stopped beating and the world stopped spinning. "I'm afraid it's terrible news."

Klaus thought he knew heartbreak from Hayley in his first life. He thought he knew pain from all the years of incarceration and medical torture in his second life. He thought he knew loneliness from spending an entire lifetime alone in his third life. In his fourth, Klaus came to realize he didn't really know any of that.

Caroline's death devastated him like nothing else ever had. Yes, his second life was absolute horror, but it was a different sort of situation. Trust isn't something that comes easily for people like Klaus, and he reckons it's not a walk in the park for other people to accept him with his weirdnesses and short temper either. With Caroline, everything just... Clicked. It felt right, right from the start. They had an instant chemistry that turned into a bond that turned into trust that turned into love. A love Klaus had never known before, didn't even think was possible.

Eternity gives you new perspectives. As soon as Klaus realized what he was, this constant in a world of variables, absolutely everything shrunk into insignificance. When you have literally  _forever_  to go through the same places, the same people, the same events, over and over and over, it just stops being that important. But not Caroline. Never Caroline.

Caroline made life more bearable. She made Klaus laugh and loosen up, cracked his hard shell of suspicions and fear. She made Klaus  _forget_  he was meant to wander about life with a frown on his face, not caring about anything or anyone because it was all flitting. Caroline was the one thing that brought some color back into a meager existence, made Klaus finally see the beauty in  _living_ , rather than just passing by an entire lifetime as though he were on a mission. It's like before her, he'd been seeing everything through a blurry, black-and-white glass.

She made him happy in a time when he'd completely forgotten what that was supposed to feel like, when he'd stopped thinking of life as something you should  _enjoy_ , but rather endure. Caroline brought him back from what would likely turn out to be an irreversible path towards complete indifference towards everything and everyone.

Klaus' soul was slowly dying, and Caroline saved him.

And then he lost her.

Klaus remembers the scene as though he'd watched it from above, from outside of his body.

She died before she even made it to the hospital. A car crash, they said. It wasn't even that bad, but Caroline wasn't wearing her seatbelt, the airbag malfunctioned and she hit her head hard against the wheel. The only indication of a trauma was a tiny little cut on her forehead.

Caroline looked so peaceful with her eyes closed Klaus could've believed she was only sleeping. So beautiful, so still, so pale... So lifeless. Not a breath left in her. Her lips felt cold to the touch when they had been warm and smiling just that morning.

What Klaus remembers the most from that moment is the emptiness. This massive, Caroline-shaped space that was left inside of him. The world suddenly felt too big and he felt too small. He knew he'd be able to go back to the 9:50 train on the 21st of April of 2018, but he also knew that that Caroline, rushing into the train just two minutes before departure, would not be  _his_  Caroline. Not yet, anyway. That Caroline wouldn't know him, wouldn't miss him, wouldn't love him. They'd have to start from scratch, and Klaus knew, he just  _knew_ , that the minute he locked eyes with Caroline on that train and didn't find even the smallest hint of recognition there, his heart would break all over again.

The comprehension that not all the love in the world can reduce the abysm of difference that exists between Klaus and almost every other person in the universe killed him. When the world simply stops being, Klaus keeps moving, always moving, never stopping.

Even surrounded by people, even in Caroline's arms, even with others like him going through similar things - Klaus is, at all times, the loneliest man in the world.

At that point, Klaus considered suicide. Not for relief, as it had been in his second life, but because he didn't want to keep going without Caroline. That life no longer made sense without her. Going back to his research felt idiotic, pointless. He just wanted to be over with it and find her again. But as tempting as the idea was, he didn't go through with it. There would be a 27 years wait before he could be reunited with Caroline in the next life, and it was best that he learned how to cope with that pain and the loss before he went into his next loop. It was hard enough to be a child. He didn't want to be a grieving one too.

The sadness that took shelter in his chest and never really dissolved finally took him back to 1991 at the age of 71, under the form of a massive heart attack.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

When Caroline boarded the train in Klaus' fifth life, all wet and annoyed and  _alive_ , it took every ounce of self-control in his body not to wrap his arms around her and never let her go again. He prepared for the moment as best as he could in order to not seem like a maniac and scare Caroline away. In the end, he resorted to simply staring while he waited for his cue -  _"Here. Use mine."_  - and was lucky enough that Caroline was so distracted by her misfortunes that she didn't notice the creeper oggling her from his seat.

That time, Klaus decided not to take things so slowly. They moved in together little over a year after they started dating and the next two years were absolute bliss. Klaus started working as an illustrator, which didn't pay that well, but money ceased to be a problem pretty soon into his rebirths. There are dozens of ways of making it, either in small amounts or a fortune at once, if necessity arises. A few lucky bets here and there usually do the trick. Most reborns like spending their time collecting riches, becoming wealthier and wealthier by the lifetime. Klaus, he thinks it's boring always being a millionaire. He's done it, of course, in various different ways, but he actually appreciates having to work for a living every now and again. It gives him something to do to pass the time, and he appreciates learning new crafts.

Between a job he liked and the woman he loved, Klaus would say his fifth life was going wonderfully well - until that fateful Wednesday in September emerged on the horizon.

Weeks before the accident, Klaus felt like a zombie. He barely slept at night and spent the whole day lost in deviations. He stopped eating, stopped leaving the apartment, became extremely overprotective and paranoid. He'd call Caroline ten times a day, send her dozens of texts, to the point she stopped answering.

She would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night to find him watching her, his mind reeling back to all those years ago, before those versions of him and her were even born.

"What's going on with you?" she asked one morning, during breakfast, eight days before the accident.

"What?"

"You've been acting weird for weeks and I'm getting a little freaked out here, Klaus. You have to tell me what's happening."

There were tiny creases on her brow as her brain worked to try and figure out the puzzle, understand what was going through Klaus' mind. Caroline was like that; it frustrated her to feel like she was missing out on something, if there was anything happening around her that she couldn't fully grasp. Caroline liked being in control, almost as much as Klaus, only in perhaps a slightly healthier manner.

Klaus, he was a constant challenge to her. That was probably one of the things Klaus found most extraordinary about her. In spite of all his efforts to be as normal as possible, Caroline  _knew_  there was something he wasn't telling her. Something shining from within Klaus, a darkness that escaped through the little cracks on his well-practiced façade as an indication that there was more beneath all those carefully constructed layers. Caroline looked at him like she could read his soul - like she loved what she saw there as much as she loved the rest of him, only she didn't quite know how to interpret it, not in any ways that made sense to her mere mortal head. Klaus never felt like he had to pretend around her. It was useless. She would always see right through him.

He wanted to tell her what was going on, more than anything. But he didn't have a good explanation to go along with it, anything even remotely plausible to justify his growing despair. Instead, he went with "Nonsense".

It obviously didn't convince her, not in the least.

"Well, do you want to explain to me what that crying after sex was all about, then?" she casually retorted and, well.  _Touché_.

Klaus hid his face behind the hem of his coffee mug because, in fact, it happened. Stress was leaving him on edge all the time. But it was barely crying, just a few silent tears that escaped his control. He buried his face in her hair and pulled himself together immediately. She wasn't meant to have noticed.

He wanted to justify himself by saying it was just a coincidence that the crying happened during sex because, in fact, it had been happening all the time, everywhere, especially when Caroline wasn't around to see it and he would be reminded of the emptiness he was left with after she died. But, well. That line of defense probably wouldn't have helped his case much.

"It was nothing. Just an allergy," he shrugged.

"An allergy?" she said, verging on indignation. "Are you allergic to me now?"

"That's not what I meant."

Caroline stopped then, searching his face. "Have I done something to upset you?"

Oh, it would've been so much easier if he could just tell the truth...  _"Listen to me, love. Listen very carefully. You're supposed to die in a car crash in eight days. Don't ask me how I know, just trust me on this one, ok? So do me a favor and stay the fuck away from cars for the next three weeks, yes? Just to make sure. Better yet - don't touch a car for a month. I'll give you an Oyster card."_

Klaus trusted her in a way he never trusted anyone before, not since becoming aware of his condition, but he still held vivid memories of what he was treated like when he told his parents of the things he knew from the future - how  _scared_  of him they became when some of the things he said turned out to be true. They accepted an obviously misguided schizophrenia diagnosis so they wouldn't have to deal with their freakshow of a child anymore - so they wouldn't have to believe what he was saying was real, that their son wasn't like everyone else's children. It's too much for a normal person to handle. If not even his parents, who were meant to love him unconditionally, could accept a child with a twisted and inexplicable condition, why would Caroline?

He couldn't stand the thought of having her being afraid of him. It would change everything between them, forever. He'd never see her the same way again, and Klaus  _needed_  what they had much more than he needed her to understand his secret.

"Don't be daft, Caroline," he said, not meeting his girlfriend's eyes. "It's nothing to do with you, it's just - nothing. I'm feeling a little sick, it's all."

Klaus hated himself for being so dismissive, for underestimating her intelligence like that. He knew he angered her. She dropped the subject and left for work with no more than a dry  _Bye_. Having her mad at him obviously wasn't helpful, so, for the next few days, he had to work double hard on concealing his anxiety and keeping the turbulence firmly on the inside.

He was moderately successful for a while. Then the day finally came, and it was impossible not to panic.

His head was flooding with ideas. Klaus considered tying her to a chair or locking her in the bathroom. He considered kidnapping her, dragging her to a different city, slipping something into her coffee and keeping her drugged for the whole day. If he thought he could get away with it, he would've done it. But Caroline would never forgive him.

He was so nervous that he spent the entire night either bent over the toilet, throwing up things he'd eaten two lifetimes ago, or pacing around the apartment. His body was burning with a fever, but it had nothing to do with a virus, as he allowed Caroline to believe.

She found over him doubled over on the bathroom floor with an acute pain in his stomach, trying to catch his breath after yet another round of retching. After a futile attempt to convince Klaus to see a doctor, they went back to bed together. Klaus held on to her with such a desperation Caroline thought he was delirious.

"Please, don't leave me," he muttered, abandoning all shreds of digniity.

"It's all right, Klaus. I'm right here," she whispered, combing her fingers through his head. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't leave," he repeated.

Of course what he meant was  _'Please, don't die'_ , but what Caroline understood was,  _'I'm such a baby when I get sick'_. His reaction was so miserable and convincing that Caroline called the gallery in the morning and asked to take the day off -  _'Family emergency'_.

Klaus felt like he was breathing again for the first time in weeks.

There were probably hundreds of less humiliating ways he could've kept Caroline away from the car on that Wednesday, but he was so broken by anxiety and fear - a condition he believes he was made prone to by all the trauma of his second life, and that would walk with him forever - that he was simply incapable of acting logically.

But all that was secondary, because it worked. Caroline didn't leave the apartment and did not die. Klaus was lulled into sleep by the sound of her strong, steady heartbeat. She was  _alive_. To hell with his dignity.

Four months later, however, he couldn't stop it again.

Caroline said, "I'm going to the store. Do you want anything?" while Klaus was in the shower. He thought for a moment and said, "Beer".

That was the last thing he said to her in that life. Beer. The next time he saw Caroline, it was again in a hospital stretcher, again with a sheet covering her body, again pale and cold and lifeless.

"The car did not stop on the red light," a doctor informed him. "The hit was too violent. We tried reviving her three times, but..."

Klaus stopped listening.

Caroline was dead again.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

In his sixth life, Klaus stopped the car accident, stopped the hit-and-run and got another full year with Caroline. He was almost allowing himself to quit the paranoia and believe that they'd finally make it unscathed through an entire lifetime when the phone rang on a Thursday night and he already knew what it was before the man on the other end even told him.

There's a pattern to how people deliver bad news, particularly for professionals. No one really notices that sort of thing because no one's ever expecting to receive a phone call from a stranger saying that a loved one has died. Most people never get that type of phone call, or only get it once. Once you grow accustomed to it, you can pick up on the tells. And it is definitely not something anyone forgets easily. The somber tone of voice, the slow, measured enunciation, the small break before the use of certain key words that will denounce the matter of the call -  _accident, crash, hospital_.

"Mr. Mikaelson," the first pause. "I'm afraid there's been an incident involving a Miss Caroline Forbes." Another pause. "We need you to come down to the hospital."

She was shot.

She was bloody shot.

Caroline was out having a pint with colleagues after work and went out - apparently - to call her boyfriend and let him know she'd be late, that he shouldn't wait up. A man showed up and tried to take her mobile. Caroline reacted out of instinct and, as it turned out, the man was armed. He shot her twice, once in the arm, the second in the chest. The people at the pub heard the gunshots and rushed to help, but it was too late. The bullet pierced right through her heart.

"She probably didn't feel anything," the doctor said, as if that information could offer some kind of solace.  _She wasn't in pain._. Fuck that. Caroline died in pain before, she'd died instantly, she'd died and died and died. It didn't matter if it was fast or not - what mattered was that she kept dying.

It didn't matter how hard Klaus tried, Caroline kept on slipping through his fingers way too soon. Every time he managed to stop a death, Klaus would get a few months here, another year there, like a small reward for his efforts. But then something else would come out of nowhere and there would be nothing he could do.

_Why_  couldn't he save her? Why couldn't Caroline live?

x-x-x-x-x-x

The answer to his woes came in the form of an epiphany.

Klaus went back to his third life, to all those physics classes and discussions about timelines and how to bend them at your will. Having a time-traveling police box would help speed up the process, of course, but in the absence of that, he'd have to use his knowledge of future events as a tool in his own advantage.

If he couldn't keep Caroline alive long enough, he'd have to go the other way and compensate for the time they could never get in the future by finding her sooner. It was a simple matter of logic.

If Caroline was going to keep dying no matter what he did, Klaus had to get to her before the 9:50 train to Cardiff and try and change the progression of events from then on, creating an alternative timeline by modifying the starting point and maybe, just maybe, preventing Caroline from having an encounter with death every time she turned a corner.

It's also entirely possible that he spent way too much time watching Back To The Future - that was  _such_  a great movie - but, in the grand scheme of things, considering the situation, it doesn't sound crazy at all. A DeLorean that goes back and forward in time isn't as improbable or as insane as a man who keeps getting reborn.

Of course, back then, he didn't know about the consequences for messing with the natural progression of time. Mother Nature has no sympathy for people trying to cheat her. Theoretically speaking and in light of his ignorance, however, his plan was flawless.

The only problem was finding her. Three lifetimes with a person, you'd expect him to know everything there was to know about Caroline, and he thought he did. But when he stopped to consider the details, he realized there was so much about her life before the 21st of April of 2018 that he didn't know.

For starters, he didn't know for sure  _when_  she arrived in the country. He knew it would happen in 2013, but in what month? He didn't know  _where_  she would take up residence upon arrival, only roughly the neighborhood, but what street? What building? What flat number? She mentioned places she used to go to and some of her favorite cafés and restaurants, so that was something. But it only offered Klaus a perimeter, not a pinpoint location.

It would be harder than he'd originally thought, but he was willing to do whatever it took.

So what Klaus did was, on January of 2013, he rented a flat in the neighborhood he believed his chances of randomly bumping into Caroline tended to be fatter and started hanging out at her favorite spots.

He began with Rousseau's.

Rousseau's was a quirky little pub that served almost anything you could want. Food, coffee, tea, alcohol. Mostly alcohol. You name it, they had it. It was a really old place that changed hands and business a few times over 200 odd years, but that remained open thanks to an fiercely loyal clientele. The current owner was a former corporate wolf who'd abandoned a life of wealth and devouring smaller businesses after a life-changing epiphany and decided to embrace the simple side of life by financing the type of place he would've previously ran out of operation. A really nice background story for such an old pub, but the kind of thing that Klaus tended to raise an eyebrow at. The end of the whole one-life-to-live situation made him a cynical.

That's not saying he didn't appreciate the guy's new venture, because it was a rather nice pub, and it deserved to stay open. Klaus could see how Caroline would like the place. The food was good, the atmosphere was great and even the regulars were oddly pleasant, even if just to look at. Caroline would love it there; she'd order herself a drink, sit at one of the tables and make up stories for everyone who came in.

But perhaps the reason why Klaus became so fond of Rousseau's was Cami.

Cami was... Well, many things.

For starters, she was a bartender with a reputation. Her TripAdvisor reviews were insane. Her nametag said Camille but Klaus noticed pretty quickly that nobody ever called her that. Everyone who went to Rousseau's either knew the place for so long that they were used to the bartender's nickname, or they ventured a trip there precisely because of her. Best mixed drinks in East London, some would say. Klaus, he'd always been very skeptical about mixed drinks. It was a quick way to ruin perfectly good booze. He liked his bourbon and the odd pint, that was it. But Cami really did have a gift. She'd talk to someone for two seconds, figure out something they would like and go to work. She converted Klaus into a passionate defender of the fine art of mixology.

Cami was also a Psychology student who worked afternoons while she studied to get her degree. And she was just as passionate about psychology as she was about proving mixology haters wrong. She liked to talk to people, to listen to their burdens, offer her two cents. And there was  _nothing_  Cami didn't have an opinion on, didn't matter if she'd only just met you or if she'd known you for years. It was a little annoying, to be perfectly honest, but Klaus grew fond of her nosiness over time. She meant well, and she was actually pretty good at it. People would go there just to talk to her, and they'd leave her pretty fat tips as well. She was smart, that girl.

More importantly, Cami was a breath of fresh air in Klaus' otherwise sad and lonely Carolineless life.

At that point in his everlasting existence, Klaus was already so corrupted by pain and loss, so cynical in the face of how ugly and lonely the world can be, that Cami bothered him. It was just not possible for someone to be  _so nice_. With time, though, Klaus realized that what he'd initially perceived as an effort to be liked was, in fact, just a natural mindset towards kindness. Cami was an all-around good person, the type that is so hard to find, no matter how many lifetimes you have. She was just there, making coffee, pouring drinks, smiling at people, remembering their names and wishing them a good day, and for some reason that seemed to brighten up the mood of everyone who came in through the door.

There was a feel-good bubble inside Rousseau's, and the name of that bubble was Camille O'Connell.  _"Please, call me Cami."_

Klaus obviously wasn't the only one who felt oddly drawn to her. Everyone liked her: the regulars, the newcomers, the tourists, the neighbors, the bosses. And Klaus had a feeling Caroline would like her, too. They had different personalities, but there were certain similarities that went beyond the blond curls. How infectious and easy their smiles were. How they could light up a room with the sound of their laughter. Their honesty and kindness. Klaus couldn't help but see a little bit of Caroline in her. And it tugged at something deep inside his chest.

Camille had her bad days, same as everyone else, but she was just... Happy. She wasn't rich, she had to bust her ass off behind that counter, she'd lost a brother and an uncle recently in freaky accidents, not everything in her life was perfect, but she was just  _happy_. It was a state of mind. And in a world of indifference and bleakness, happy people can be addictive.

Klaus was the complete opposite on that scale. He was never happy, even when he was. Happiness was something he had to wait 27 years to come around, only to live every day terrified of having it taken away from him. Loving something as much as he loved Caroline was destructive. At the same time it made him whole and gave him purpose, it ruined him for absolutely everything else. Caroline was his all and all; without her, nothing had meaning, nothing had life. His whole world felt off-color and dreary. So what Cami represented to him was... The unattainable. What he couldn't have. She had a freedom in her he could never experience. Klaus was chained to tragedy, and so he was attracted to Cami's happiness like a moth is drawn to a flame.

If there was one thing Klaus needed after lifetimes of loss, it was to rest his mind and his heart, give it time to heal.

Which is why Cami is the reason Klaus' plans for his seventh life changed so drastically.

It didn't take long after Klaus started hanging out at Caroline's future favorite places for Rousseau's to stand out, not only because it did really look like a place where she could spend hours at, reading a book, calmly sipping from a mug, or having a drink or two at night, but also - and mostly - because Klaus quickly became friends with the bartender. Or rather, the bartender seemed to take a liking to him, which is an entirely different thing.

Usually, Klaus' reserve, which often translates as indifference and standofishness, sends enormous  _back off_  signals. So great in fact that most people simply don't bother trying to approach - which, well, is sort of the point. Klaus doesn't want to drag anyone into his life if he can avoid it. Too complicated, too hard to handle. Cami, however, never seemed discouraged or frightened by the nonchalance of the new regular client. Before he noticed, Klaus was stopping by nearly every day, taking the same spot by the counter and talking away entire afternoons while Cami worked.

In hindsight it seems only too obvious, but it took him a long time to realize what was happening there was more than just friendship. Well, it certainly started like that, but it didn't stay that way for much longer. Perhaps because he got so used to the unique idea of Caroline as a romantic interest, it never crossed his mind that what he and Cami had been doing for eight months was, in fact, a very slow-cooking version of  _flirting_. And the perception was forced onto him when, one day, as they walked side by side to the nearest tube station after Cami's shift was over, she kissed him.

Klaus was in the middle of saying something when he noticed Cami had stopped. He turned around to find her a few steps back, jaw set into determination, a strange fire in her eyes as she stared at him as though she was trying to read his mind. Klaus blinked at her. "What?"

Cami didn't say anything, she simply cut the distance between them with two purposeful steps, took Klaus' face in her hands and crushed their lips together.

Klaus... Well, he froze. Thinking back, it was probably an awful experience for Cami, poor thing. There she was, making the bold decision of finally making a move on a weird bloke who had been sending out very mixed signals, and the bloke wasn't even kissing her back. In fact, Klaus wasn't doing much of anything. He didn't part his lips to allow her to deepen the kiss, didn't put his hands anywhere, didn't even close his eyes. He was just... Petrified.

It was probably the worst first kiss he ever had, in all his lives, truth be told. The worst first kiss  _anyone's_  ever had.

The first time Klaus saw anything resembling sadness on that girl's eyes, it was right after she pulled away from that kiss. "Oh, God," Cami muttered, shaking her head and looking away. "I'm so sorry. I don't - I don't know what I was thinking, that was just... I'm sorry. I have to... I should go."

She didn't give Klaus a chance to react or say anything before dashing off down the station.

Kissing Camille felt a lot like cheating on Caroline - which, objectively, was ridiculous. The Caroline who existed in his seventh life at that point didn't even know who he was. And there were no guarantees that he'd find her before the 21st of April of 2018, so possibly he still had  _years_  before they'd even meet. Besides, Klaus had kissed dozens of other people, before and after Caroline, in every life since they met. It was not like he'd become celibate in the absence of the love of his life. Quite the opposite, in fact. The first time Caroline died, Klaus went through so many people, trying to numb out the pain or tell himself that he could move forward without her, that he can't even remember half their faces. It was different with Caroline, it was always different, but good sex was still good sex, whether it meant something or not. So figuring out why the thing with Cami bothered him so much, why it felt  _so wrong_ , was tricky. But, eventually, after much consideration, he did.

The truth was that Camille wasn't like all the other people in Klaus' lives. Kissing her felt like a betrayal because he  _liked_  her. Actually, truly cared for her. Unbeknownst to him, Klaus developed certain feelings for someone who wasn't Caroline, and that was... Frankly, it scared him. Made him terribly confused. The way he felt for Caroline was absolute, unchangeable, the one constant thing in all his lives. It was as certain as the sun would rise and the world would spin. So to catch himself  _feeling_  for someone who wasn't her was... Strange. Different. And worrisome.

Cami caught him with his guard down with that kiss, and when his heart started racing and that little flurry of excitement started coursing through him, Klaus' reaction had been to freeze instead of following his instincts and taking action. He didn't realize how much he wanted to kiss her until right the second she kissed him, and then, after it happened, he simply couldn't think about anything else. The interest wasn't born out of simple need or physical attraction, as it usually went with him - it  _flourished_ , growing out of deep-rooted affection and a huge sense of mutual respect.

And it changed everything.

It had been eight months since Klaus moved into Caroline's alleged neighborhood and still there was no sign of her. He knew for a fact that the woman he loved would walk through the doors of Rousseau's at some point, but he had no way to precise when. And as he waited, he happened to meet someone who caught his attention in complicated ways.

What to do, then?

Well, first, he had to apologize. He felt bad for how he reacted. Mostly because he knew he'd made her feel bad, and the feeling was only aggravated when she didn't show up for work the next day. Instead, Klaus found Marcel, the guy from the night shift he sometimes hung out with and who he was certain had a thing for Cami.

"Hey, Mikaelson!" Marcel greeted him with his characteristic charm and big, toothy smile. Klaus liked Marcel just fine, but the sight of him then was deeply disturbing. It must've shown on his face, because Marcel's smile faltered for a second as he spoke, lowly, just to Klaus' ears, "She asked me to cover for her today."

"Oh," was all Klaus managed to reply. He wasn't sure how much Marcel knew, or how much he should let transpire.

"She said she was feeling a little under the weather. She works too much, that girl," Marcel continued. "I offered to stop by after work to check on her, but - here's your coffee, darling. Have a good day," he said, handing a cup to a woman who was waiting by the counter, quite obviously smitten, before turning back to Klaus. "Maybe you should go. I think she'd like that."

"Me?" Klaus asked, a little taken aback. "Why do you say that?"

"Come on," Marcel said, smirking in a soft manner, if that was possible, and left it at that.

He  _should_  go and talk to Cami, if anything because he knew for a fact that she wasn't sick, just trying to avoid him, and that was... Well. Cami never missed a day at the pub. Enough said. But the mere fact she'd play the sick card meant to Klaus that she didn't want to see him and, after what he did, he should probably respect her wishes and not try to force his presence upon her. Especially because he didn't know what to say - for some reason, he had the impression that  _'I'm really sorry I didn't kiss you back, I really wanted to, but I'm in love with this other woman I haven't technically met yet and I'm very confused about how you make me feel'_  was not going to cut it.

So Klaus decided to give Cami - and himself - a few days to sort things out. No pressure. When he did stop by again, it was a few minutes before her shift was over, as she was getting ready to leave. She was smiling as always as she chatted with Marcel, and he waited until she grabbed her things and went for the door to make himself noticed.

"Klaus," she said, stopping dead on her tracks.

He ventured a smile, pressing his lips tightly together. "Hi." There was a pause, a long one, and then, "If you want me to go..." he started, but didn't finish.

Cami studied him for a moment and Klaus almost expected her to say that yes, she'd prefer if Klaus didn't stop by anymore while she was working, and the idea scared him for a second, more than he thought it would. She wasn't Caroline, but she had somehow gotten under his skin and when something like that happens to someone like him, it's ten times worse than when it happens to normal people. It doesn't just run out. Klaus' skin is thick. It's not easy getting under it. He just knew he wouldn't be able to clear Cami off his mind for a while, and it freaked him out a little. It was enough to be miserable about one woman. Two was a bit too much.

But when Cami finally spoke, what she said was, "I'm sorry. You don't have to go just because I - I know what I did was pretty stupid. I misread the signs and got it all wrong. It's my fault. And this isn't my bar anyway, so... I couldn't tell you to go even if I wanted. Which I don't. I mean, right now I'm leaving, but -"

"Camille," Klaus cut her off. "We need to talk."

And they did. He left with her and they walked for about twenty minutes in silence, neither of them able to start the conversation. Klaus had no idea what to say to her. For someone with his eloquence, he was quite terrible when it came to these things, mostly because he'd never had to work on that specific set of skills before. So he decided to do the only thing he could think of instead. The only thing he'd been thinking of for days.

He kissed Camille.

He saw Caroline for the first time maybe a year and a half after he hooked up with Cami. She looked so much younger, wearing her hair longer and braided, short flowy skirt, sneakers and a simple backpack where Klaus got used to seeing fancy bags and briefcases.

God, he missed her  _so much_. It took everything he had not to go to her and strike up conversation just to listen to the sound of her voice. But Cami was standing right there, behind the counter, smiling at the girl who owned her boyfriend's heart. Klaus knew it was likely that he'd see Caroline more often after that, and it was bound to become harder and harder to resist going to her - every single cell in Klaus' body was pulled towards Caroline. She was the sun and Klaus was this tiny little planet that couldn't help but gravitate around her and bathe in the warmth of her light.

He knew, in that moment, that he had a decision to make.

He looked at Cami, this amazing girl with whom he was having a good, easy time, who hadn't had to escape death a single time since they got together, and then at the person he'd loved for more than two hundred years. And Klaus decided to let Caroline go. At least once. Maybe that would save her - maybe Caroline would live a happy and long life without him. Not that it made anything easier; it was a noble thought, but he used it as a selfish belief merely to placate the turmoil in his chest.

It did get easier, after a while. Mainly because Camille was the sort of person with whom it's worth it to spend a lifetime with. But his breath never quite stopped catching each time Caroline walked in, his heart never stopped breaking a little bit more every time he saw her.

Klaus never said a single word to her in his seventh life, only watched from afar as she came into the pub, ordered coffee or something to eat or a drink, exchanged a few words and a smile with Cami, and then left. She wasn't always alone. Sometimes she'd come in with some girls, some of which he knew would be her friends for the rest of her usually short life, and sometimes - much to Klaus' chagrin - she'd come in with a handsome brunette in tow. Klaus wondered if that was the person Caroline was meant to end up with, why she kept on dying over and over again. He wondered if he had been disrupting her timeline by keeping her away from Handsome Brunette.

In spite of all the unanswered questions that would gnaw on him forever, Klaus lived a happy life with Cami. She quit the pub after she graduated and opened a practice. Her reputation made sure that she had a good clientele to start with and soon enough she became a successful therapist while Klaus worked on his art.

Cami died at the age of 73. Klaus woke up one morning to the sound of her ragged breath next to him and found his wife sitting in bed with her back against the headboard, eyes shut tightly as though she were in pain. She said her chest was hurting a little and Klaus grabbed the phone to call an ambulance, but Cami asked for a glass water. It didn't take him more than a minute to rush to the kitchen, but when he came back, Cami was no longer there.

Klaus held her body, caressing her snow-flake white hair as he waited for the ambulance to arrive. It was sad to see her go, but there was no sorrow, no regrets whatsoever. Came next life, Cami would be young and beautiful and smiling like sunshine again, so this wasn't really the end. They had a good life, and that was all that mattered. Cami was a good friend and a good companion. Taught him an infinite number of things, of which how to appreciate a good drink was the least important one.

He also knew he'd let her follow a different path from then on - maybe with Marcel, maybe with someone else. But, no matter what, Klaus would always have a special place for her in his heart and on his infinite treasure of memories.

Klaus died his usual death after several surgeries and a heart failure, seven years after Cami's passing.

Seventh life done, it was time to find his way back to Caroline.

x-x-x-x-x-x

In his eighth life, Klaus was smarter locating Caroline.

He was waiting at Rousseau's at the exact day and the exact time he remembered seeing her there for the first time in his previous life. When she walked out, Klaus followed her back to a building four blocks away. Then he rented a flat on the same building.

Klaus had everything mapped out - how to approach Caroline, how to kickstart a friendly neighboring relationship and then swiftly move on to an actual friendship until she inevitably fell in love with him, as it always happened. It shouldn't be too hard, considering they got pulled to one another so fast each time they met on the train. Except Klaus had no idea Caroline was living with someone else at that time. The handsome brunette bloke he saw her with at the pub wasn't just a random lover; they were sharing the same flat.

His name was Tyler.

Klaus wasn't sure what to do. Tyler's existence changed things, but he knew absolutely nothing about the guy, except that, by the 21st of April of 2018, Caroline wouldn't be with him anymore. And that was three years away. She never mentioned living with another boyfriend, certainly never mentioned a Tyler. Klaus would definitely remember that crucial piece of information.

Caroline had always seemed very open about her past. He knew where she went to school, who had been her best friends, her first boyfriend (Matt, blond, quarterback). He knew her father left her mom when she was a child, how that screwed her up for a while, turned her into an unpleasant rebellious teenager with an attitude. He knew she'd been in a abusive relationship with an older man named Damon, who'd taken advantage of her insecurities and left her deeply wounded, a guy Klaus considered tracking down and murdering in very slow, very painful ways every life time.

Klaus knew  _everything_. But he didn't know about Tyler.

The fact Caroline had omitted his existence could only mean one of two things: either Tyler was too insignificant, which Klaus doubted to a certain extent, because nobody you come to live with can become so meaningless to the point of not being worthy of a single mention (not to normal people, anyway), or, and that was the most likely option, Tyler was too important.

That fact in itself was enough to leave Klaus riled up. But it got worse.

Klaus didn't want to act like a jerk right off the bat. Not out of some sense of respect for Caroline's relationship, because he couldn't care less about this Tyler lad. But he knew Caroline well enough to understand that acting aggressive or dismissively towards him would be extremely counter-productive to his goal. The idea was to win her over, not to make her think he was a knobhead. But the inclination to do it was certainly there. He worked way too hard to get to her. How many people could honestly claim to have waited literal lifetimes to find someone? Certainly not Tyler.

There wasn't much to do other than try to push his initial plan forward the best way he could, now that the 9:50 train to Cardiff wasn't even an option anymore. Now that they already knew each other, that train trip would be an altogether different one. He'd have to make Caroline fall for her neighbor in spite of the guy currently sharing her bed.

Klaus was moderately confident he could still make it happen, but things did not run as smoothly as he'd planned. Caroline was nice enough, but kept a cool distance from him. Not in any of their previous lives had Klaus felt like his presence was so unwelcome to her. The train ride only ever lasted for little less than three hours and by the time it was over, they would always be talking as freely as long time acquaintances. Now, it didn't matter how many elevator rides, or how many casual hallway small-talks Klaus tried to pull, Caroline treated him like just a familiar face that meant nothing and deserved no more than the standard politeness she would reserve for a supermarket cashier.

For the longest of times, Klaus' greatest sadness had been the tiny little moment when Caroline looked at him on the rain and didn't recognize him, didn't feel anything in particular while he'd have electricity jolts shooting up his spine. In his eighth life, that little moment was stretching wider than ever.

Klaus started going back to Rousseau's more often, which he'd sworn to himself he wouldn't do. But soon he found that drowning his frustrations in the familiar company of Cami was very helpful. He did make sure not to send mixed signals this time, though, made it clear that there was  _someone_  - there was no accidental flirting, only innocent conversing, which Cami was ace at. Klaus could use a friend, but he had no friends, and Cami was easy. She didn't have to recognize him to treat him affectionately. The fact she did that to basically everyone was beside the point.

The hardest part was watching Caroline and Tyler together. Klaus had never had to do it in any of his previous lives, stand back and watch her parading about with someone else. He didn't know how much that would drive him crazy. He had anger and jealousy and chagrin permeating every inch of his body, all at once, all the time. It seemed like an impossible thing when he was  _right there_ , but Caroline fancied Tyler quite a lot. Klaus could see things in her he only ever saw addressed to him - the guarded, knowing smile, the sparkly eyes, the small touches that happened for no reason other than an intrinsic need to be in contact with the other person.

It took him a whole year to move from that slightly inconvenient neighbor to Klaus from 4B. It wasn't a friendship per se, but it was close enough and after rounds and rounds of defeat, Klaus considered it a great victory. The only problem was, getting closer to Caroline meant, by association, getting closer to her boyfriend. In fact, it turned out to be a lot easier to charm Tyler than it was to charm Caroline. It was almost as though there was an invisible wall cloaking Klaus in that life, keeping him from coming into her radar. Everyone else noticed him, but not her. Nothing he did mattered. So Klaus decided that attacking from the opposite direction was his best shot. He swallowed down his pride and all his resentment towards the man who currently occupied his place next to the love of his life in order to approach the object of his affection.

And what he found was that Tyler was, in fact, a lad in desperate need of some male friends in England. He and Klaus started trading small favors, gossiping about the other neighbors, hitting the pub for a pint or two every now and then. Klaus introduced him into the world of actual football and he was a surprisingly nice company - which obviously only made Klaus hate him more. But becoming a part of Tyler's life meant becoming a part of Caroline's life - Tyler's friends were her friends as well.

There's an irony there somewhere to be talked about. Klaus tried not to think too much. If he did, he'd just want to punch Tyler in the face. The fact he was acting like a desperate stalker was enough to dent his dignity.

He would sometimes pretend he needed an opinion on something or can I borrow a cup of sugar, please? whenever he knew Tyler wouldn't be home, just so he could get some alone time with Caroline and do a bit of mindless flirting to see where it would take him. But Caroline was all polite deference and if she ever understood what Klaus was doing, she didn't act like it.

As the time passed, Klaus grew more and more impatient, became grumpy and short-tempered and recluse. He'd go on for days without setting foot outside his flat, just so he wouldn't have the displeasure of seeing Tyler's hand casually placed on the small of Caroline's back as though he had any right to do that. He moved his sulking hours from Rousseau's to a different pub because the merry-uplifting atmosphere of the place just wasn't cutting it for him anymore. Klaus couldn't deal with the growing anxiety, couldn't handle not having the only thing he'd prepared himself for in his entire eighth life. He could already feel the aggravation building up inside of him as it used to happen before Caroline's known deaths, that overwhelming sense of inevitability, setting him on edge. The disease he carried with him since his second life was hitting an all-time low.

When the 21st of April of 2018 came and went and Caroline still wasn't his, Klaus knew that there was something definitely wrong. Could it be that he'd altered the events of her life by moving into the building? Had his proximity stopped whatever it was that was meant to happen to break her and Tyler apart? Klaus asked himself those questions a billion times over lonely glasses of bourbon, retraced all his steps to try and figure out where he'd gotten it all wrong. Nothing made sense.

After a particularly bad night, one where he had more to drink than usual, he marched over to Caroline and Tyler's door and spanked it until someone showed up. He didn't give a flying shit that it was the wee hours and that he was making a complete fool of himself. Klaus needed answers and it seemed to him like the only person who could provide those was Caroline herself.

Luckily, it was her at the door.

"Klaus?" she asked, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

"Is Tyler home?" Klaus demanded in his slurred, drunken speech.

Caroline stopped, gave him a good once over, tried to connect the dots on what was happening. "Yes," she said. "He's sleeping. Do you need to talk to him?"

"No," Klaus replied. "I need to talk to you."

"Ok." Caroline crossed her arms over her chest. "But you seem like you had a bit of a rough night. Don't you think it's best if we talk tomorrow?"

"I need to know now, Caroline! I can't take this anymore!"

Caroline frowned, confused and taken aback by his sudden outburst. "What do you need to know?"

Klaus paused for a second, his eyes burning with angry tears he refused to shed, his dry lips opening and closing a few times before the words finally came out, almost as a plea. "Why aren't you in love with me?"

Only the smallest hint of surprise registered on Caroline's features, in the shape of arched eyebrows. If she felt anything like pity, she didn't show, which, in hindsight, was probably very considerate of her.

"Klaus..." she started, studying her words. "I think you should go home. Have some rest."

"No, no. You don't understand," Klaus said, shaking his head vehemently, fighting to keep his balance. "It's been one month since we were supposed to meet on the train. One month! That's long enough! I did everything I could,  _everything_. Why are you still not in love with me?"

"Meet at the what?" Caroline sighed. "Look... I had no idea you felt that way about me. If I ever did anything to suggest that I was interested... I'm sorry, Klaus. I didn't mean to lead you on. I don't think that I did, but if you do, I apologize anyway."

"You haven't led me on, that's the whole problem! Don't you see?"

Caroline was getting more confused by the second.

"I... No. I don't, actually. I have no idea what you're talking about. But... What I can tell you, regardless, is that I love my boyfriend. I love Tyler. So... I'm sorry? I guess?"

Caroline's words slashed through Klaus like a sword, cutting him open and leaving him out to bleed. She was in love with someone else. He was right there, begging her to love him, and still she loved another. Was that the universe's way to punish him for having given up on her for one life? Did he somehow break the spell or whatever it was that existed between them by being with Camille? Who could give him these answers? Was there even anyone out there who could?

Klaus felt as lonely as he did the first time Caroline died, only she wasn't being taken away from him by force this time, she was making the active choice of being with another person. Of loving another person.

"Will there ever be a life in which you won't break my heart?" he asked. Caroline stared at him with dark, questioning blue eyes, too tired to argue and too baffled to answer.

Klaus turned around and walked back to the elevator. Caroline stepped outside, said "Wait," but didn't follow up with anything, just watched as the doors slid close and Klaus was gone.

He moved out of the building the next morning. Partly because he could not stand to stick around any longer, partly because he didn't trust himself not to retaliate. He never closer to doing something that would earn him a lifetime in prison than in his eighth life. Tyler would not be safe with the amount of hatred Klaus had harbored in his chest.

He rented a small and quite unimpressive flat on the other side of the city and made sure not to set foot anywhere near Caroline again. Klaus did not want to know whether she had gone on to live a happy and long life with Tyler. He'd never be able to rest again if that was the case. What he couldn't see, couldn't hurt him (much, or at least no more than it already had).

In his eighth life, Klaus met Aurora.

Aurora was young, devilishly pretty, Italian and just as furious at the world as Klaus was. So, perfect for the occasion. They met at a pub, because where else would two people with such terrible attitudes meet? Aurora was a force of nature. When she was excited about something, it was impossible not to get trapped in her bubble of euphoria and exhilaration. But when she was upset... Jesus Christ. Her temper was one to rival Klaus'. The smallest things infuriated her, more easily than Klaus could care to fix her mood, which meant that they were constantly getting into fights. Aurora was one of those people who couldn't find where she fit in the grand scheme of things, couldn't find herself a purpose, so she became frustrated, angry and dominated by a sense of injustice, as though the whole universe and their brother aligned just to foul her.

Klaus was never really sure what they were doing. They'd stay together for a while and then Aurora would flip at something and leave. Or Klaus would snap at her and walk out. He's never been an easy fellow to deal with, but in his eighth life, after everything that went on with Caroline, he was more surly than ever, so he didn't even have it in him to soothe Aurora when she had one of her outbursts because all he wanted to do, more or less the whole time, was lash out himself.

He suspects Aurora's might've been an actual medical case, even suggested that she should see a therapist. But every single one of his good-natured suggestions kickstarted epic fights that would begin with Aurora laughing sardonically and saying, "Right, because I'm crazy" and escalate from there.

Theirs was a poisonous and hurtful relationship, but it was somehow exactly what they needed. Either that, or what they thought they deserved to have. Aurora would disappear, Klaus would hook up with random people, then she would return, totally unapologetic, sometimes with an interesting story to share, and they'd dive right back into their insanity. It made no sense whatsoever, but it worked. And in between arguments and offensive accusations, they had their moments as well. It was nice, when it wasn't burning.

After three years of that, Klaus decided he'd had enough and left the country. He spent five years travelling around the world - mostly through small countries in Asia. It was quieter there, and between Caroline's disregard and Aurora's explosions, Klaus found that he needed some dear rest before he lost his mind for good.

When he finally returned to England, he found Aurora exactly where he left her and really hurt that she'd been abandoned.

"Don't be so sentimental, sweetheart. You left me first, as you always did. You got mad and you walked away to do whatever it is that you do when you leave, and I figured it was about time I did the same. I needed a break," Klaus explained.

Aurora nodded, somehow calmer than Klaus remembered her to be, and said, "I know." And then, "I just really missed you."

They got back together after that and stayed more or less that way for another five years. Klaus took her to Asia with him, where they lived in small tents and wooden huts and Buddhist temples on the top of mountains. They still fought, because it was sort of inevitable, but Aurora stopped leaving and Klaus stopped letting her.

Eventually, though, she did go again, because it was, after all, her thing. She could never stand still for too long. But it wasn't after a brawl, not to disappear into a storm. It was quiet and sweet, with a kiss and everything. That's how Klaus knew she wasn't coming back. He missed her, if he was being completely honest, but he understood why she had to do it. God knows how much he wished he could walk away from his life as well sometimes. Only his was a little harder to shake than Aurora's, for obvious reasons.

In the end, Aurora helped Klaus to heal. For that, he'd be forever grateful. His eighth life would've been a lot harder to navigate if it hadn't been for her keeping him distracted, even if through the sheer anger at times.

Klaus died at the age of 59 in a motorcycle accident.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

In his ninth life, Klaus decided not to take chances anymore.

Attempting to find a short-cut to Caroline failed miserably, twice. He learned his lesson.

This time, Klaus did not try to tinker with the course of events. Instead, he patiently waited for the 21st of April of 2018 and bought his ticket to the 9:50 train to Cardiff. One can never go wrong with a classic.

Just like magic, everything was right with the world once more. Caroline was there, wet and miffed and in need of a borrowed phone, and from there on it was a piece of cake. They talked, casually flirted, she registered Klaus' number on her own mobile and called back at the end of the day. They met for drinks that same night and did not leave each other's side anymore.

All was well.

It was a bit like the first time, in that life. Maybe because they hadn't been together for so long, or maybe because Klaus had somehow become aware of the fact that Caroline should not be taken for granted. Their love, great though it was, was not the stuff of fairy tales, as Klaus had previously assumed. They could end. Caroline could still meet other people and fall in love again.

And as matter of fact, Klaus was so bugged by Tyler that he started throwing offhand questions about Caroline's past lovers, something he'd never done before, not with such specificity anyway. He offered something of his own life to make her more relaxed about opening up - stirring up details a bit to add Hayley and Cami and Aurora into the mix without really saying who they were or how Klaus met them, because it would be too hard to fit all of them into just 27 years. Besides, Caroline would probably get curious about at least Camille, who she knew from Rousseau's, and, well. Too complicated. So he changed names and dates and lengths of relationships and added a bit of fiction, but was as honest as he could be.

It wasn't easy to soften her up, and the longer it took him to break through her wall, the more certain Klaus was that Tyler had been a rather special case. Eventually, though, she did trust him with the truth.

Caroline and Tyler had known each other almost their whole lives, grew up together in Mystic Falls, but they got together on her senior year of high school, right after her involvement with that arsehole Damon Klaus already knew of. Tyler helped her through the worst time of her life, held her hand as she woke up crying in despair from the nightmares, mended her heart and her soul. It was his idea that they should seek different airs, leave Virginia and the US altogether, put as much distance between Caroline and that old life that haunted her. Tyler was an illustrator and got accepted into a university in London, so she moved with him to pursue her degree in England as well.

Caroline loved him to bits and became incredibly attached, to the point it nearly destroyed her to find out he was having an affair with his mentor at the university, some American lady called Jules. They broke up just one year before the 9:50 train ride.

Caroline swore by all things holy and good that she was completely over Tyler, but she still did not like to talk about him, hated to think of how fragile his betrayal made her, the old nightmares from the Damon times coming back to torment her all over again. She thought she was healed, but losing Tyler made her feel alone and vulnerable again, weak, unable to care for herself. It took her a while to get back on her feet.

"It makes me insecure to talk about him," she admitted. "I'm afraid if I think about it too much I might become hesitant. I never thought things would go sour with Tyler and they did, so... I can't let my past experiences dictate how I live my life. I don't want to be forever on the defensive, afraid of getting involved again. I  _can't_  let that fear take over me again. You know."

Yes, he did know. He really, really did.

What Klaus wanted to do right there and then was hunt down Tyler and beat the crap out of him for hurting Caroline. How could he do that, knowing what she'd been through before? Yes, he'd been there for her when she needed him the most, and Klaus guessed he should be thankful for that, that Caroline had someone to help her pull herself together after that knobhead Damon bloke, but still. It just made him more angry that Tyler would throw something so precious out - something Klaus fought so bloody hard for, only to lose every time, in spite of his best efforts.

If he didn't know better now about the woes of messing with the timelines, how much worse it could turn out to be, he'd go to Caroline while she was still in Virginia, before she met Damon, to save her from that monster and from the heartbreak that would come later on with Tyler.

It got him thinking... Was Tyler seeing that Jules woman before, in his last life, or did Klaus' presence somehow influence that? Could it be that Caroline was being cheated on the whole time, and he chose to walk away instead of sticking around and fighting for her? Then he was just angry, but now he feels bad. She was so genuinely in love with Tyler that he couldn't even look at her, and all the while, as he pined for her and wallowed in self-pity, her boyfriend was going behind her back. What a fucking arse. Maybe Klaus could've done something if he hadn't moved out immediately after getting rejected. Maybe he could've still been with her.

Shit.

Sod it. Sod it all. It was a different lifetime, there was no way he could've known then what he knew now. What mattered was that Caroline was his and he would never let her go. Tyler wasn't his problem anymore.

His ninth life was also the life where Klaus decided to go a little more traditional.

Marriage had never been his thing. Between Hayley in his first life, his parents' toxic relationship becoming so evident in his second, and the neverending loop of loss that followed, Klaus just stopped seeing any sense in tying the knot. He and Camille called each other husband and wife anyway because it made no sense to call someone you'd been with for 50 years your  _girlfriend_. But he knew Caroline had always wanted to be a bride. She never said it with so many words, but he'd picked up on the tiny hints over their lifetimes together. And if there was anyone he'd ever want to make his wife, officially, it was her. They never had enough time to get there before. Now, he was decided to change that.

After avoiding Death #1, Klaus took her to Cardiff, had the rooftop restaurant overlooking the bay where they'd had their first ever date, on Klaus' fourth life, reserved just for them. Caroline had no recollection whatsoever of that place, they hadn't been there together in that life, but Klaus had privileged information that not only she would love it, but that the restaurant's chef would become one of her favorites ever. They had a fantastic dinner, drank superb wine and danced together to a slow song under the moonlight. Then Klaus pulled out the ring and asked her to marry him.

Caroline cried a little, wrapped her arms around his neck and said, "Yes. Yes, yes, yes. A million times, yes."

They tied the knots a few months later. The moment he saw her, the sunbeam smile she had on her face, the glint in her eyes, the glow of happiness all around her, Klaus knew that it was all worth it. All the pain and the suffering, all the loss and the emptiness he had to endure to learn how to get to this point. He'd do it all again, a thousand lifetimes over. Caroline was worth anything.

It was probably the happiest Klaus had ever felt until that point, in all his 500 odd years of existence. The only thing tempering with his constant state of contentment was the fact he knew he was running against time to save Caroline before Deaths #2 and #3 came to sweep her away.

He was more determined than ever, ready to do whatever he had to to defeat fate, but death always won. And this time, it wasn't a car accident, or a hit-and-run, or a gunshot. It was something much viler, something he could not stop.

The brain tumor took her so fast there was nothing anyone could do. It was massive, inoperable and deadly. It was their longest run together, but she was still gone by the age of 32, and Klaus had never been angrier before.

How the fuck was he supposed to beat cancer? He could avoid a car crash or a robbery, but he couldn't stop Caroline's body from creating a bloody time-bomb from within. There were ways to try and slow it down; he could make sure she'd find out sooner about the disease, or he could try and gather knowledge from the future, become a researcher and develop the cure for that particular type of tumor way before its time. But then what?

The universe was trying to send him a message, written in cancer:  _You cannot win. Stop trying._

It was so fucking unfair. Fighting a disease was too much. Watching Caroline wither away right before his eyes, lose herself, everything she was, all the beautiful, perfect bits of her personality, was... Harrowing. Torturous. See the light behind her eyes slowly dim away was so, so much worse than enduring the sight of her pale, cold body on a stretcher.

It took him time to quit being angry and start doing something else. Klaus felt helpless and wronged and he wanted to see blood. He'd never thought of himself as a bad guy – short-fused, unpleasant at times, sure, but not  _evil_. But in his ninth life after Caroline's death, that's exactly what he became.

He saw her at every corner, judging him after every wrongdoing, shaking her head the way she did when she was disappointed, saying,  _"You're not like that, Klaus. This is not the man I fell in love with."_

"It's  _your_  fault," he'd yell at her – at nothing. "If you wanted me to stay that man, then you shouldn't have bloody died."

"Is that how you want to come and find me again? Is that the person you want to be?"

"What good has being decent done? You still die. You  _always_  leave me. Maybe I should be bad. Maybe I can save you by being evil."

"No. You'll only lose me faster that way. Stop ruining your life and start doing something, Klaus. Before it's too late."

It was ten years before he heeded her advice.

Lashing out didn't bring her back, and it didn't make him feel any better either. So if it was all he could do to try and save her next time, then Klaus would study as much as he could about tumors and develop a way to treat her in his next life, or in the next two lives, or three, or five hundred. He didn't care how long it would take, but he would find a cure and he could save Caroline. He would always choose to save her, even if it killed him a little bit more each time. As his previous two lives had evidenced, losing her was bad, but not having her was almost unbearable.

He spent the next forty years dedicated towards his task, and made considerable progress. He had a plan all outlined for his tenth life. What he didn't know yet was that everything he thought he knew about himself, about who he was and even about Caroline, would be turned upside down by the appearance of Elijah.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics at the beginning are from _Bridges_ by Aisha Badru.
> 
> This story was originally written for a different fandom, several years ago, and I really, really, liked how it turned out, but I wanted to rework certain parts and rewrite a few things, except I didn't feel like writing for that old fandom anymore and suddenly it made a lot of sense to adapt the story into a Klaroline one. I feel like it fit really well, it's almost freaky. It had pretty good response when it was originally posted and it remains of my favorite stories that I ever wrote. I don't often say that about stuff that I write myself, but I remain a little proud of this one.
> 
> The original story was inspired by a book I read years ago and that I loved very much called _The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August_ , by Claire North. If you have read this book, then you will know exactly what I'm talking about because it's quite obvious.
> 
> I really wanted it to be set in the US, but I just couldn't make it work. I tried several alternatives, but it didn't fit (and, because this is an AU/AH-of-sorts, I needed to justify Klaus' accent somehow). So I decided to set it in England and voilà.


	2. With every heart beat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I must ask that you forgive any mistakes and typos you might find. The story isn't beta'ed and my grammar corrector is kinda sucky.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on this chapter as well! =)

_Maybe we could make it alright_  
_We could make it better sometime_  
_Maybe we could it happen, baby_  
_We could keep trying but things will never change_  
_So I don't look back_  
_Still I'm dying with every step I take_  
_But I don't look back_  
_Just a little, little bit better_

* * *

Elijah came to him as a train rushing towards a man tied to the tracks.

It was a rainy Saturday, like every other Saturday had been that March, and a 16 years old Klaus was walking back home after an afternoon of having his nose buried in books at the library. That's how he'd been spending most of his days: studying tumors. Klaus had done a pretty extensive job already in his previous life, progress had been made, but his greatest challenge was figuring out how to adapt his knowledge of future techniques to present day technology. Klaus would certainly end up getting some Nobel prizes for advancing the war on aggressive brain tumors with visionary work that wasn't exactly his. It was both theft and also not the kind of spotlight reborns usually want to attract, but screw it. If that meant giving Caroline a better fighting chance, he couldn't care less about stealing other people's brilliancy. Especially if some of said people weren't even born yet.

Klaus stopped to fix his hoody and hide from the drizzle when he heard someone calling for him.

"Hello, Niklaus."

It was the first of many times Klaus heard that greeting in Elijah's soft, melodic voice.

Of course Klaus didn't know his name yet, had no idea who he was, but it didn't take him more than two seconds to understand why that man was standing there with a cryptic smile on his face, knowing the full name he never used.

He was a reborn. An original like himself.

Elijah appeared to be in his late twenties, maybe even past that (Klaus never asked, his age always seemed rather beside the point - it's never the actual age that counts with the lot of them). There was an elegance to him that was almost otherworldly, like he'd stepped out of an old Hollywood movie into the real world. His hair was perfectly fixed, his eyes were as dark as the night, but there was something warm about him, something nurturing. Elijah was a care-taker, with an aura of mystery wrapped around him like a halo.

Klaus would meet him again several times later, in several different lifetimes, but Elijah never ceased to be a conundrum. He was always one step ahead, this infinite well of wisdom and knowledge. It seemed nothing ever happened without Elijah becoming aware of it.

"Can we go somewhere to talk?" he asked, shifting his umbrella from one hand to the other.

Klaus simply nodded. He did that a lot on their first encounter.

Klaus wasn't paying that much attention to  _where_  they were going, all lost in thoughts. He couldn't decide whether to be excited or scared. There was nothing even remotely hostile about Elijah, quite the opposite; he was very affable, very calm. Still, Klaus was apprehensive. It was one thing to imagine there were other reborns; it was a completely different one to come face to face with one of them.

As they walked, Klaus realized that there was  _something_  about Elijah. He could sort of  _feel_  his presence. Like the air around him was charged with a different sort of energy that affected his molecules and made his insides twist in knots - not in a sick sort of way, but in awareness.

"You can feel it too, huh?" Elijah asked, smiling as he looked straight ahead, as though he could read Klaus' thoughts. "Don't worry, it's normal. We can all feel each other. Our bodies aren't any different from a regular person's, but our spirits aren't the same. We can recognize a kindred soul, if we get close enough."

Elijah led him towards a small café that Klaus would've probably never even noticed if he didn't know where to look. It was the epitome of discreet, the outside not corresponding one bit to the luxury of the inside. It seemed to have been frozen in time, probably somewhere around the 1900s, like one of those belle époque fancy places. There were maybe five or six other people there, and they all felt  _weird_ , a strange sort of electricity in the air connecting them together - and to Klaus - in a manner he'd never felt before.

They were all reborns.

"Please, don't be alarmed. I know you're very confused right now, but it will all make sense in a second. I mean no harm," Elijah said. "Harming one of our own is the worst offense possible to our kind. I'd never dream of it."

 _Our kind_. It was so strange to hear that. It was so strange to be  _surrounded_  by other immortal souls. Klaus had always suspected that he wasn't the only one because it was very unlikely that something that impossible would've happened just once, just to him. It would imply that he was in some way special, meant for greater things or some comic book crap like that. Which was not at all what he felt like. So there  _had_  to be others. Klaus just never thought he'd actually meet them.

It was overwhelming, to say the least.

"I've never met another person like me before," Klaus said, stumbling upon his words a little, but trying his best to keep the cool façade.

"Well, there's a first time for everything, even for us. I'm Elijah," he said, offering his hand for a shake, which Klaus took after a moment of hesitation. For a second there he was afraid of what would happen when they touched. But there was no instantaneous combustion or electric discharge. It was a bit anti-climactic, actually. All very ordinary. "How old are you?"

"I'm 16."

Elijah laughed. "No. I mean how many lives?"

"Oh," Klaus said. "This is my tenth."

"Ten? You're only a child."

Klaus frowned. "How old are  _you_?"

Elijah smiled shortly, making a sign with his hands to the man behind the counter, who responded with a courteous nod. "I'm 76."

"Piss off!" Klaus said. Elijah just smiled. That man had been alive for  _millenniums_.

The man to whom Elijah had signaled interrupted them with a tray full of delicious looking pastries and tea. Klaus' stomach grumbled as the wonderful smell of warm food filled his nostrils. His head had been so messed up by Elijah's arrival that he completely forgot it was past tea time. He was  _starving_.

"Thank you, Emmanuel. These look terrific, as always."

"My pleasure, sir."

With another nod, Emmanuel left, and Elijah immediately started to pour tea for the two of them.

"Is he a reborn too?" Klaus said, unable to  _feel_  Emmanuel.

"No, he's a commoner. But he always spends 40 years working here, every time. He's practically family. Milk?" he asked. Klaus nodded, and felt his head spinning a little bit at the simplicity of the scene. A millenniums old man pouring him tea like it was nothing. Just another day in his life.

"You're probably wondering how I found you," Elijah continued after sipping from his cup. Klaus didn't say anything. There was no need for him to talk at all for conversation to ensue with Elijah. "I'm a frequent passenger on the 9:50 train to Cardiff on the 21st of April of 2018 myself."

Klaus gaped. "You... what?"

"Oh, don't try to picture me in the train, you'll fail," he added quickly with a grin, again reading his thoughts. "I can pale to insubstantiality if I want to, and I usually do. I imagine at this point you've probably already realized there are certain dangers inherent to our existence. If people knew what we know... It's best that we're not noticed, if possible. But I know every single face of every single person who rides that train with me. I've done it enough times to have them memorized. I don't  _always_  go to Cardiff on that day, only every few lifetimes or so. But I've been there enough to notice you, Niklaus."

He sipped again from his tea, calmly giving Klaus precious seconds to process the information.

"I noticed your presence, of course, but not so strongly. We're never sitting very close from one another. And we do get it wrong sometimes, which I thought was the case with you. You see, every single time we rode that train together, everything always played out the same way. That was a very good indication that you were  _not_  one of ours. We don't tend to repeat ourselves that much. But then..." he made a pause and smiled triumphantly. "Then you weren't there. Just like that. One day, you didn't show up. And that's when I knew I'd found another one. I went back there in my past life, just to confirm, and there you were again. I followed you around a little, did some digging. Confirming my suspicions was rather easy - you need to be more careful, by the way. Child prodigy studying inoperable cancers at the age of 16? That raises flags."

Klaus always perceived himself as a discreet person. Most of the time, anyway. Clearly, though, he'd been lacking in the subtlety department.

"Why did you have to find me? You could've just talked to me on the train."

Elijah took a deep breath then, his eyes flickering away from Klaus for a second. Maybe Klaus didn't have his skills reading people, but he knew enough to recognize reluctance when he saw it. Even before he said anything, Klaus knew that what Elijah had to share wasn't good news. It reminded him a lot of those dreaded phone calls he got so used to in his first few lives with Caroline.

"That young woman you're always talking to on the train, the one who's always late. Correct me if I'm wrong, but she's the reason you keep going back to that train time and time again, is she not?"

"Yes."

"I figured," Elijah nodded, tapping his fingers on the table. "She means a lot to you, doesn't she?" Klaus swallowed down hard before nodding. Elijah shook his head lightly, his eyes full of some sort of sad sympathy that made Klaus' insides twirl. "I'm afraid I'm here to tell you that you shouldn't see her anymore."

Klaus' heart jumped to his throat and he nearly dropped his cup. "What- what are you talking about?" he stammered.

"You shouldn't see her because she's your anchor."

"My... what?"

"Anchor," Elijah repeated. "Did you never find it strange how suddenly close to her you felt? How extraordinarily fast the two of you got along? For us, it's not very easy to let people in, is it? Well, it's never easy for me, and not for anyone else I've ever met. That's not to say we don't have friends and lovers who become very dear to us, but it's different, isn't it? We don't always go back to the same people over and over again. We might go back to our favorites from time to time, but not  _all_  the time. Not every single lifetime. It's not in our nature to get attached so easily to things that are so flitting. But you  _did_  get attached to that young woman, didn't you?"

"She's... We're... I  _love_  her," Klaus gritted out, almost aggressively.

"I know you do. That's what that feeling is to us, what the anchors stir in us.  _Love_. It is love, after all. A dependable, all-consuming and completely overwhelming love, unlike anything else we've ever experienced." Elijah stopped for a spell, looked right into Klaus' eyes. "But she keeps dying, doesn't she?"

"How do you -"

" _Anchors_ ," Elijah cut him off. "That's what they do. They never last too long. Here's the short story. We don't know what created us, how we came into being, what makes individuals like ourselves possible. If it's magical, extraterrestrial, biological - no one knows. There are a few educated guesses, but no certainty. And the same thing goes for the anchors. We can't explain them. All we know is that for each of us there seems to be a person who serves as an anchor. Ask any immortal, and they will tell you the same story. We call them anchors because they keep us tied to this one same event, over and over again. We just want to go back to them, whichever way we can, and that invariably leads us back to one same day and one same time and somewhat guarantees, with only minor disruptions, that we are going to follow coordinated steps, the same as every other human being. Whatever got us here - whichever cosmic force is responsible for bringing us back to the starting point after our deaths - it tries to correct this anomaly by forcing us to follow one same path as though we are normal. And they do it through the anchors. That's how they get us back on track, keep us under control."

Klaus could feel all the color draining from his face, the bottom dropping out of his stomach. Caroline, his Caroline, his perfect, beautiful Caroline, just another pawn in this stupid game the universe was playing with him.

"No..." he murmured after a moment. "That can't be. Caroline... She  _loves_  me.  _We_  love each other."

"I'm not saying you don't. The feelings you have for your anchor are very real. She's your soulmate, after all. Trust me, I know." He said it with such sorrow, his eyes so full of remorse that Klaus couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards his pain. He was either a very good liar or telling the truth. "But that doesn't change the fact that she's brought on to your path for a reason, and that reason is to keep you trapped on a never-ending loop of grief and loss. Because they never live long enough, regardless of how hard you try to save them. That's the catch. We love them too much, we lose them too soon, so we go back and we try again. And again, and again, and again. It's a very sadistic game that we cannot escape. Not unless we let them go."

"But... I tried to find her sooner, before the train ride, and she was with someone else. She didn't fall in love with me then. If she's my anchor, then how come she didn't fall for me?"

"That's because you broke the spell. When you change the course of events, you break the power that bonds you. There's no way to guarantee it'll go the same way anymore. The principle is the same as with the theory of chaos. Once you change something, regardless of how small, you cannot predict what the modifications will create further down the path. It might happen the same way, or it might not. In your case, it didn't. Let's just say you freed her from her anchor duties."

"So what? What if I don't mind being trapped? I don't care. I just want to be with her."

"Niklaus..." Elijah said, leaning slightly forward over the table and holding his gaze. Young is something Klaus never feels anymore, not since he came back the first time. But looking into Elijah's eyes, he feels no older than the 16 years of his body in this life. "I know it's hard to understand. And I know it might take a while for you to digest the idea. It's why I wanted to see you years before that train ride finally came around, so that you would have enough time to think about it. There's a whole world of things you don't know yet about being who you are, Niklaus. Maybe in the beginning you won't understand. By God, it took me two lifetimes to let go of my anchor after I learned what she was, and I still think about her, one way or another, every single day.

"But the thing is... You will only start living a full life that is entirely your own once you learn to let go. The world is so big, Niklaus. You can see it all, you can  _have_  it all. You have  _time_ , which is the most precious treasure in the universe. You can learn other languages, visit exotic islands, meet new people -  _fall in love_. Leaving the anchor is not the end. And more importantly... If you really care about her, you will let her go. If you stop going to her, it'll break the spell. She'll  _live_ , Niklaus. Long and happy years. That's the only way they get to live. Away from us. We are what kills them. I know it hurts, but that's the truth we all have to accept at some point."

What Klaus remembers best from that moment is the cold, raw ache that spread through his chest. All those years working hard to become a neuro-genius, all those lifetimes moving heaven and earth to try and save Caroline from the next tragedy... And it was his fault all along. He was the car crash that smashed Caroline's head, he was the drunk driver that ran her over and left her for dead, he was the thief who shot her cold in the chest. He was the tumor growing in her head.

Klaus was the disease that ended Caroline's life. His love was poisonous.

He left the café with Elijah's phone number - which he guaranteed would remain the same in every life, should Klaus ever need him - and a question ringing loudly in his head: what the hell was he supposed to do? Stop his entire plan for that life and just... quit? Not go after Caroline anymore? Find something else to occupy his time with, like saving her had been no more than a hobby?

His mind wasn't clear. It raced and pounded like the worst kind of fever. Klaus didn't leave home for a week, just hid under the covers, not wanting to see the light of day. His mother thought it was the flu - "There is this virus going around," she said. "Oh, Niklaus.  _I told you_  not to go out with just that hoody, didn't I? If you would only  _listen_  for once. Let's hope you don't get everyone in this house infected."

Usually, that type of comment would've hurt him, even after so many lifetimes to get accustomed to Esther's vinegary lines. He's tried to win his parents' affections, tried to be the son he thought they wanted. Nothing he ever did worked. He was never enough. This time, however, Klaus, didn't care. He wasn't paying attention to anything Esther said. He was unaware of even thinking.

The good news was, he had over a decade before the next 9:50 train to Cardiff. That would give him some time to consider, perhaps even come to terms with his new reality: he wasn't alone in the universe, there were hundreds, maybe thousands of reborns out there, joined together by this little club of rules and regulations - "I will tell you all about it when you're ready," Elijah said, "but right now I think you have more immediate matters to appreciate" - and Caroline was just another freakish anomaly in a long list of deviations in his life, one that he was supposed to walk away from. An  _anchor_.

Klaus thought a lot about what Elijah said, about how he could meet other people and fall in love again and do different things with his life if only he didn't let himself get dragged back to that Cardiff-bound train every time. He thought about Camille and the only time he ever made the active choice of not pursuing Caroline. He'd lived a moderately happy life then, and he'd loved Cami with as much heart as it was possible to. Klaus never regretted the time they spent together. So Elijah wasn't all wrong. It  _was_  possible to love other people, even if, deep down, he still missed Caroline.

The thing is that Klaus had a choice then - he  _decided_  against being with Caroline  _because_  he knew he'd always have the next life. Now it was no longer a matter of free will, but an imposition. That made everything different.

The question of whether or not to leave Caroline for good set on the base of his spine like a parasite for eleven years. And when the time finally came, Klaus bought the ticket and boarded the train.

Twenty seconds before Caroline got in, he changed seats, moved to an empty space across the corridor and watched as the same old scene unfolded before his eyes. Caroline, wet and bothered, jumping onto the train late as always, taking her spot, trying to work on her mobile...

It was the hardest thing Klaus ever had to do, but he faced away from the woman he loved and stayed like that for the rest of the trip.

" _Live, Caroline. I want you to live._ "

He watched as Caroline walked away at the platform, completely unware of his existence, and as soon as she was gone, Klaus bought a ticket back to London and went home.

His love had been a curse to her for way too long. Now, he'd turned it into a gift. Even if part of his heart would be forever with her, even if Klaus could never find love quite like that again, even if every cell in his body itched for contact.

In the end, Klaus would not be able to live with himself knowing how vicious and toxic his mere proximity was to the object of his utmost affection. That hurt almost as much as leaving her - almost as much as losing her.

That's how much he loved Caroline. Enough to let her go.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

That, however, was a lot easier said than done.

Klaus swore by everything holy and pure that he wouldn't be going back to that train again. When he looked at the situation objectively, rather than through the blurry lenses of his hurt feelings, it didn't seem that it should be a hard decision at all. With him, Caroline would die. Without him, she would live. It was that simple.

That was not to say he was willing to let go without a fight, though.

The fact Elijah seemed to be telling the truth didn't mean Klaus wouldn't conduct his own investigation into the matter. He had to see with his own eyes that Caroline would survive the grim reaper that followed her around like a shadow whenever they got together - that she would be  _happy_  and fulfilled without any Klaus Mikaelsons crashing into her life uninvited. Honest though Elijah may have been, his words weren't enough to settle the matter to Klaus.

He couldn't think of a single reason why a complete stranger would lie to him about something that did not concern or affect his life in any way, but it was still part of his instincts not to trust anyone, not even another reborn. If there was even a small chance that Elijah was wrong or if there was a way to break the spell without getting Caroline killed... Well. He was all game.

Along the course of his tenth life, Klaus tracked down Caroline a few times. And every single of them was excruciating. He always feared doing that before because he didn't want to find out whether Caroline could have peace as long as he wasn't around. Now it was his only option to confirm Elijah's story.

Klaus found her three times. The first happened two years after the train ride, and Caroline was apparently well and healthy and still working at the gallery. So she'd managed to escape at least two deaths already without the need of any biblical interventions. But Klaus wasn't too impressed. Those early deaths were all circumstantial; Caroline was at the wrong place, at the wrong time. It was only too simple to avoid it by  _not_  being there, and if she wasn't with Klaus, then she was somewhere else, doing something else, and it was completely plausible that a smooth change in directions would lead Caroline away from those two encounters with death. The same went for the third one.

No, the part that worried Klaus the most was the brain tumor. Whichever way you looked at it, it was unavoidable.  _That_  would be the one to provide irrefutable veracity to Elijah's tale.

Klaus postponed the moment for as long as he could, but it eventually became clear that it was futile to pretend he wouldn't have to find out sooner or later, and it was best that he ended this once and for all in one lifetime, rather than carry the doubt over into the next.

Roughly ten years after the 9:50 train to Cardiff, Klaus started his search feeling torn between how desperately he didn't want to find Caroline and how much of a monster that sentiment made him. Finding her meant that it was all true. They never got to spend ten whole years together, Caroline was always dying before that.

When it took him no more than ten seconds online to find out about Caroline Forbes' whereabouts, he was crushed.

Thousands of Google mentions, hundreds of photographs and dozens of interviews. Caroline was as beautiful as ever and one of the most respected figures amongst modern art circles in Europe and the United States. Managing director of the Tate Modern. In her mid-thirties, past the tumor phase, alive and well and healthy.

Klaus never thought that a heart could sink this fast.

The sensible thing to do would've been to accept defeat and remove himself from Caroline Forbes' story for good. But Klaus was never known to be a sensible person. What he did instead was donate ridiculous amounts of money to the museum and its charities, torturing himself with the useless hope that seeing his name or his face would spark a memory back into life. He knew it was impossible; the memories were simply not there.

In fact, Klaus wondered if maybe Elijah didn't get the whole anchor thing wrong. To him, it seemed like it worked the other way around. Caroline could get away from him and never miss a thing, while he had to stumble through life with a frown on his face and a hole in his chest, forever hung onto her.  _He_  was the true anchor, stuck to the bottom of something. Not Caroline.

All the money invested made Niklaus Mikaelson one of the most important names on every single list of guests to all the important events at the Tate. For six years, Klaus refused all invitations, until one day he woke up with a bit of an attitude and decided to go  _fuck it_.

And then he wished he hadn't.

It should've been enough to know that Caroline was alive, that was all the answer he needed, but apparently Klaus had some masochist tendencies in him to go along with the brooding and had to go twist the blade in a little bit further.

It was painful - actually physically painful - to see Caroline parading across the hall, shaking hands and offering smiles and being absolutely stunning as a mid-thirties woman. Perfect in every way, except for the fact that she wasn't his.

Every single memory of every life spent alongside her emerged from the depths of Klaus' mind in the space of a second. Waking up next to her, making her breakfast while she got ready for work in the morning, sketching her face while she slept - watching her in a white dress, beautiful as a Renaissance painting, walking down the aisle to become his wife. Memories of lives he could never live again, because Caroline was right there, after all. It was all true.

"Mr. Mikaelson," Caroline said, a smile on her face that showed enthusiasm but professionalism. Klaus was fascinated by all the new wrinkles on the corners of his beloved's eyes, the signs of an age he never got to see on her before. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I was starting to think I'd never get the chance to thank the man who makes my work so much easier in person. You're a blessing to all modern art lovers, sir, I hope you know this."

 _Bang. Bang. Bang._  Every word uttered in that American accent felt like a shot straight to his heart.

"I'm not a fan of the spotlight," he said, not quite sure he was being successful in hiding his disheartenment. "My donations are made purely out of love, Ms. Forbes. Nothing more."

"Oh, I believe that. A man who contributes as much with the museum and our charities as you do obviously loves his art very much. It's a very noble feeling."

"Yes," Klaus agreed. "I do love my art."

They spoke for a while - about the museum, the current exhibitions, the future exhibitions, the pieces they were desperately trying to acquire, her plans for the immediate future. It was easy conversing with Caroline, and Klaus loved to watch her go on and on about the things that excited her. She had such passion, such drive, that woman. That was one thing that didn't change. But it wasn't the same. Caroline talked like she wanted to impress.  _"See, we're taking very good care of your money, I'm extremely professional, you can trust me, please don't ever stop signing the checks."_

Klaus wanted to interrupt her just to say there was no need for her to embellish so much trying to convince him to keep the investments. She could just be honest, talk from her heart. He couldn't care less about what she'd do to the money, he'd never stop helping her, even if that meant twisting Elijah's rules a little bit.

He didn't stop her, though, playing hard to impress just so she'd keep talking. Everything about her was dazzling. The way she smiled, the sound of her voice, how the accent became thicker when she laughed or got particularly excited. Klaus wouldn't mind booking himself a chair to sit there and watch her all night.

After a couple more champagne flutes, Caroline turned the conversation around and started asking about him. "What is it that you do exactly, Mr. Mikaelson, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Please. Call me Klaus," he corrected her softly. "I'm an investor. I make money from putting money in the right places, at the right time. And then I take that money and I send it to causes that matter."

"And what about Mrs. Mikaelson? Is she here tonight?"

Klaus stopped then. In a certain way, he was staring right at the only Mrs. Mikaelson that had ever existed, Hayley aside (and, at this point, Klaus hardly considered her a part of his life anymore). It occurred to him that question was the most clichéd way of finding out whether someone you're interested on is already taken, but she didn't seem particularly flirtatious as she asked, more like conversational, casually interested in learning more about the guy who kept making donations to all her personal projects.

Too late. The second the idea crossed his mind, it ignited a flame inside of Klaus. Was Caroline flirting with him? Was she trying to feel the ground before advancing?

"There is no Mrs. Mikaelson," he said, his heart already beating faster. What was he supposed to do if Caroline did make a move on him? Wasn't that against everything Elijah told him? Shouldn't she have broken out of the spell by then? God knows how he tried to get her to notice him outside of the regular timeline before, it never worked. Could it be...?

"Hey!" someone interrupted them, heads turning towards the voice. It belonged to a man Klaus had never seen before, in any of his previous lives. He was probably on his late thirties or early forties, fashionably dressed in a neat and classic dark grey suit. It looked almost aristocratic on him. He approached them with a smile that lasted on Klaus' direction for two seconds before he focused all his attention on Caroline - and then the smile grew into a beam, his green eyes sparkled and Klaus just  _knew_  that he wouldn't like that man, whoever he was. "I've been looking for you all over."

"I'm sorry. I was having such a lovely conversation here, I forgot to go back," Caroline said, sending Klaus a quick glance as she spoke. "This is Mr. Niklaus Mikaelson," she added, gesticulating towards Klaus.

"Oh," the man interjected, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "You mean  _the_  famous Niklaus Mikaelson?"

"Famous?" Klaus asked.

"Oh, yeah. You're a celebrity around here. Caroline never shuts up about you. Niklaus Mikaelson, the museum's most important patron. She's had a crush on you for years now, Mr. Mikaelson," the man said, chuckling.

" _Stefan_ ," she admonished, her cheeks immediately flushing. "You're being inappropriate."

"I'm sorry,"  _Stefan_  said. "I'm sorry, Mr. Mikaelson. I meant no offense."

"None taken," Klaus offered through gritted teeth.

There was a short and awkward silence before Caroline broke the ice again. "This is Stefan Salvatore, he's one of the museum's lawyers," she explained. And then, after Klaus and Stefan shook hands, she added. "And also my fiancé."

He  _knew_  he was going to hate the guy.

So that was the person Caroline was meant to end up with. Stefan Salvatore. Posh and handsome and insufferable.

Stefan just looked... Perfect. Exactly like someone Caroline should end up with, if only she wasn't meant for Klaus. They were  _soulmates_ , Elijah said. Stefan was just a suitable replacement. He was the person Caroline's de-anchored heart rushed to. Not Tyler Lockwood, who was a cheater and unrefined, unlike  _Stefan Salvatore_ , with his ridiculously fancy name and big hair, fitting the perfect description of People Anyone Would Want To Introduce To Their Parents.

Klaus wanted to gut him right there.

"So you're... to be married?" he asked, eyes darting down to Caroline's very obviously ringerless hands.

"I don't wear a ring," she said, noticing Klaus' indiscreet look. "Not yet, anyway. We've been engaged for two months but my ring kept falling off my finger. I was afraid I'd lose it, so I took it off. Need to have it adjusted but I can never find the time."

"Ah," was all the words Klaus could produce.

Well, he didn't get the size of the ring wrong when he proposed, did he?

Caroline told Stefan she'd be right out and tried to make Klaus comfortable again by diving back into their work conversation, but it was too late. Klaus' mood had been irreparably soured. As soon as he could, he got out of there. Running.

It was hard to tell what hurt the most: confirming that Elijah was right about the anchor curse or finding out that Caroline was engaged to be married to someone else. Each time she escaped him, Klaus grew more possessive, more protective, more jealous of every man who dared to come close to her. The things he wanted to do Stefan Salvatore there... He was afraid of his own impulses. It seemed his ninth life had caused more of a permanent damage to his humanity than he thought.

After that disaster, Klaus decided not to try and find Caroline again. At least for a very long time. He never stopped donating to the museum, but declined all of their invitations, some of which were personally sent by Caroline. He got an email right after the event apologizing for Stefan's ill-timed joke and hoping that he hadn't made  _Mr. Mikaelson_  too uncomfortable. Klaus never replied. What would he say? ' _The only thing that made me uncomfortable was the thought of Stefan dearest's tongue in your mouth._ '

For the next thirty years, Klaus split his time between wallowing in self-pity and dedicating his days to traveling and hobbies and temporary lovers who meant absolutely nothing and never quite filled the hole left by that awful night at the museum. And then he finally went back to London. A quick search revealed Caroline Forbes, now in her 60s, had been promoted to CEO of the Tate Modern. She was still alive and well, but Stefan had passed away a few years before, after decades of marriage. She wore his ring on a necklace around her neck.

Klaus felt almost sorry for her. He knew exactly what it felt like to have someone you love being taken away from you.

They never saw each other again, and Klaus never tried to find her after that. He died at the age of 75. Caroline might even have out-lived him.

x-x-x-x-x-x

Klaus spent 1026 years, or 14 lifetimes, completely away from Caroline. That is a hell of a lot of time to fill, if you ask him.

The beginning was hard. After so much time dedicating the first few years of his life to waiting for her, it was difficult to assimilate the fact that those were not waste years anymore. There was nothing waiting for him on the 21st of April of 2018. He could start to live well before his 27th birthday. But  _how_? He didn't even know where to begin.

The problem is, when you have 1026 years to live, you have to learn how to get creative, otherwise basically everything starts to get old very soon. And in his particular case, the temptation to crawl back to Caroline was way too big, at times almost like a magnetic force was pulling him towards the train - which might actually be the case. Who knows how the anchor thing works?

It was an arduous and exhausting fight against something that he'd built into a basic instinct over the years, but, slowly, Klaus became used to the concept of having Caroline as an idea, a hypothesis that wasn't really tangible. It made Caroline feel less like a human being who was alive and breathing and walking around somewhere, and more like a dream Klaus had a long time ago.

Elijah kept showing up randomly. He never called to say when he was coming, never bid farewell before going. Klaus was never sure when he'd see him, but somehow Elijah knew exactly when he was needed the most. Whenever Klaus started thinking too much about Caroline, there he was.

He taught Klaus all about  _The Strix_ , a name almost as presumptuous as the organization itself. The Strix has existed for longer than anyone is capable of pinpointing. No one can tell who started it, or when, only that no matter how far back or forward in time you go, it's always there, all over the world. That's another cool thing Elijah taught him, by the way: sending messages back and forward in time through other reborns. It takes a while for things to get answered, but eventually they do. There are tons of ways reborns can get their messages across, but the most commonly used is through their chain of fellow originals. All you need to do is find someone who's either much older, which means they'll have started their lives long before you, so that message can travel back faster, or someone much younger, who'll live way beyond your years. Reborns have been doing that sort of thing for ages. It's quite impressive. Klaus managed to send some messages through time to some of his favorite artists. It was glorious.

The Strix is also wonderful if you mean to travel the world. They hold meetings absolutely everywhere and offer all sorts of assistance to its very exclusive members. Klaus had no idea there were so many of them. To reborns, it doesn't matter if they never saw you before, they consider you a friend merely because you share that one personality trait with them - which, well, is kind of an important trait, indeed.

Travelling was Klaus' weapon of choice to stay away from his anchor. God, he hated to think of Caroline as a  _thing_. It had such an awful ring to it, like she had been a terrible thing to happen to him. He met reborns along the way who grew so resentful of their anchors, harboring such bitterness and animosity towards them, that they actually started to hate them. Some would even go back to the anchors just to kill them, make them suffer, which they felt was honest retribution. Klaus knew his fair share of anger, but it was never directed at Caroline. She wasn't at fault for the tragedy of their fates. Klaus was certain that given the knowledge and the choice, she would fight for them too.

The vengeful ones, however, were amongst the minority. What most reborns internalized as the truth in order to make the separation from their anchors more palatable was that their feelings were not real, but born out of manipulations. Klaus refused that just as vehemently. He'd accepted that he had to let the woman of his life go because that was the only way to save her, but he'd never settle for the idea that what they lived together had never been real. If that wasn't real, then nothing else in his life was. Caroline is always the most vivid memory he carries with him and that, to someone who's lived for almost two thousand years, is saying a lot.

Klaus went everywhere. Wherever his heart told him to go, he'd do it. Sometimes he'd wake up, spin the globe and go wherever his finger touched.

He started with remote beaches, nearly deserted islands and exotic tropical forests. Then he moved on to the mountains, hiked and climbed up the Andes, the Everest, Kilimanjaro, the Himalayas. Then came the deserts. And then, when he started missing the comfort of indoor plumbing, piped water and heaters, he went back to the big cities.

He worked as a diving instructor, as a ship captain, as a wild life preservationist. He learned how to cook and even collected a few Michelin stars as a renowned chef one time. He made his old childhood dreams come true simply because he could and won a Champions League as Cardiff captain, went to Mars on the first manned mission to the red planet. It was a fiasco, by the way, the entire crew died on the landing. Klaus was 57 at the time and felt really frustrated once he was old enough in his next life to remember. He thought he was making history. But he figured he died as somewhat of a hero and probably had memorials built in his honor, had his name taught in schools, maybe even became a question in Trivia Pursuit. Death-wise, it wasn't the most horrible way to go.

Klaus had... Well, more lovers than he can remember, to be honest. Not all of them were memorable. Some just entertaining or exceptionally good at what they did. He learned certain  _tricks_  that would make him blush if he had such inclinations. It's amazing how you can live for a thousand years and never stop learning new things. There's always something different, like a twist of the tongue at the right moment or a little curve of the fingers or some creative new position you never tried before. That, he reckons, is what Elijah meant when he talked about  _living_.

Not everyone he met along the way meant something, but that is not to say no one did. A handful of people became very dear to him, a few Klaus would go as far as to say he loved, in his own way. He even married again, once. It felt wrong, because the only people he'd ever married before were Hayley, who turned out to be a mistake, and Caroline, who was… Definitive. He didn't think he should marry anyone, anymore after her. In his heart, he would always be married to Caroline, and that would lead him to invariably comparing everyone else to her, which was unfair.

It took him a few lifetimes to get over all that and decide it was time. Her name was Rose and she owned a restaurant by the beach in Costa Rica. Technically, they weren't officially married, but the symbolic ceremony happened. Rose had this whole philosophy about honoring vows professed in front of loved ones under the sky, blessed by the moon and the stars. She was a bit of a hippie, truth be told, and Klaus, always the skeptical resurrecting man that he was, didn't believe any of that spiritual stuff, but Rose was so passionate about it he couldn't help but play along. In every aspect that counts, they were married. And Klaus did love Rose and her free spirit, her passion for the simple things and the intensity with which she defended what was important to her.

In his 22nd life, Klaus felt bolder. He decided he wanted to get inked for the first time. It was never something he had particularly fancied, not on his own body anyway, but what the hell. He should try it at least once. And he's very glad he did, because it led him to Vincent and Eva. They had a tattoo parlor that doubled as a voodoo shop at the French Quarter in New Orleans, where Klaus decided to land for a lifetime of historical and slightly supernatural amusement. Besides being amazing tattoo artists, they were also incredible lovers. Klaus lived with the pair of them for six years.

That 22nd life was quite the ride. Klaus partied like he never had before, made out with more random, drug-induced strangers than he ever had before, got both his arms completely covered in tattoos and even had Vince and Eva's names inked to his wrists. He had an X tattooed on the left side of his chest, but never explained to them what it meant.

He parted ways with the duo when the subject of starting a family came up. If there was one thing that never changed, not even a little bit, in all his years of existence, it was how much Klaus abhorred the idea of having a child. It was hard enough not having all the people he loved with him every time he began a new cycle; he could not fathom the pain of losing a kid.

Vince and Eva were a little hurt, but they understand he just wasn't ready for the commitment. Klaus' refusal got them to delay the project for a while longer so that they could enjoy more time together. Then Klaus moved out, and they moved on. Vince and Eva had Finn and Freya while Klaus had a series of overdoses that nearly killed him. No pain, no gain, right?

In his 23rd life, Klaus decided to take things slowly again. It was as though he was brought back into being still on a hangover. He decided to stay in London, dedicate some time to his old mates from his first life, and ended up working as an investment consultant – and donating money to the museum again, just because.

After the threesomes and partying hard of his past life, it was a little anti-climactic, but a much welcome change in venues. For the first time he could actually feel it in his brand new bones that he wasn't getting any younger.

Soon enough he understood the reason.

In his 23rd life, Klaus ran into Tatia again, the girl who'd been his very first kiss, in his very first life.

She was as ordinary as a person can be, worked as a barista, made just enough money to rent a tiny apartment and liked playing football at the park on Sundays. She'd attempted a professional career when she was younger and was pretty decent, but a serious injury decided her fate for her when she was 16. Needless to say, she was quite impressed with how good Klaus turned out to be at football - he did win a Champions League once, after all.

They met as kids in school, as always, and then never saw each other again. Until one day Klaus left work early and met with Trevor at a café in a part of the city he tried to steer clear off because it was way too close to the Forbidden Perimeter of Caroline. And there he found Tatia. Trevor, who was a regular, dared him to ask for her number, which he deemed would be a funny joke because Tatia had turned down pretty much everyone who'd ever asked her out and Trevor was pretty sure she was a lesbian. Only he didn't know Klaus and Tatia were childhood pals and, as it turned out, she was bisexual, not gay. Klaus got a phone number and made Trevor 50 quid poorer.

Not in any of his previous lives Klaus had realized how much of a beauty Tatia would grow up to be. She had a beautiful smile, an infectious laughter and a personality that could expand to fill an entire room. She was modest and funny and walking with her meant stopping to say hi to someone every five steps because that woman knew absolutely  _everyone_.

Their relationship was not the moving-heaven-and-earth type. It didn't set quakes or sweep them off their feet. But it was simple and fun and, over the years, Klaus came to develop a strong predilection for things that were easy. He'd had enough of complicated relationships for 50 lifetimes.

His 23rd life was bound to pass by as uneventfully and calm as he could possibly hope for, but another apparition by Elijah got his engines moving out of axis again.

He was sitting by the window at the café, waiting for Tatia's shift to be over, watching from afar as she moved behind the counter, offering jokes and smiles and coffees, when Elijah slid onto the seat right across from him.

"Hello, Niklaus," he said, looking older than Klaus had become used to seeing him. Elijah normally never came looking for him once he started to approach his 60s. Never after the 70s. Klaus never asked why, but he could guess.

"This is unexpected," he said, not hiding his discomfort.

"Isn't it always?" Elijah replied, with a casual smile. He was partly right. Klaus never expected to see him, but there were patterns to his visits. He'd always wait for a moment when Klaus was completely alone and they'd customarily end up at the reborns café. According to his own words, it was the only place where they were guaranteed to be completely safe to discuss their  _businesses_.

Klaus shot Tatia a glance and their eyes met for just a second. Tatia smiled, Klaus smiled back, and then he turned to Elijah, who was watching him with a wistful air about him.

"I'm kind of waiting for someone," Klaus explained. "I can't leave now."

"I know. It's the lady behind the counter, isn't it?" he asked, not at all discreet in his observation of Tatia, who pretended not to be curious over Klaus' new company as she continued to chat away with the customers.

"Yes. Tatia," Klaus replied.

Elijah grinned. "You've always had good taste. She's an exquisite beauty."

Elijah seemed to keep a pretty close eye in everything he did, always knew who he was seeing at the time, sometimes even better than himself. He liked to investigate how his life was going before showing up, he said.  _'To make sure I'm not intruding too much_.' Klaus told him several times that all he had to do was ask, he was far more comfortable telling him everything himself than having someone snooping around.  _'You never realize I'm snooping around though, do you?'_  was all he answered, as though that was sufficient justification.

"She seems like a nice girl," Elijah continued. "How long do you think you'll be with her?"

"I'm not thinking of ending things in the immediate future, if that's what you want to know. Why? Are you interested?"

Elijah laughed. "I was just wondering if you think she'd be good enough for a lifetime."

"I..." Klaus stopped mid-sentence, narrowing his eyes at Elijah. "What is this about? You never ask me that kind of thing."

Elijah smiled that wan smile of his again, his fingers drumming idly on the tabletop, eyes lowering from Klaus' face. He felt a shudder at the pit of his stomach all of a sudden, and it took him only a second to realize why.

Over the years, Klaus grew accustomed to Elijah's presence. His initial reluctance and the small trauma created by their first encounter faded away as they grew closer. He acted as a bit of a mentor to Klaus, teaching him things he would've never been able to figure out by himself, showing him to a world of possibilities he wouldn't even have thought of exploring. Klaus considered Elijah as a friend now, a good friend. Maybe even his best friend. Certainly the only one who really  _knew_  him.

He was as kept together and poised as you'd expect a reborn of his experience and caliber to be, but Klaus learned how to read his manners and see past his masks over the years. And he certainly knew what that look meant. How could he forget? It was the same look he got when Elijah told him about the anchors.

"Elijah..." Klaus started, nervousness already creeping up on him. "What is it?"

"How are you feeling, Niklaus?"

"How am I...? I'm fine. Why?"

"Aren't you feeling a little... tired?"

"No. Not particularly."

"Are you sure?"

Klaus stopped to consider the question more deeply. "Well... A little, I guess. I'm taking things slowly this time around. I kind of went a little crazy in my last life."

Elijah smirked. "So I heard. Don't worry - I'm not judging. We should all go crazy at least once. Maybe twice, just to cover more ground on the craziness spectrum. We do have time for that."

"Why are you asking if you already know?"

"Don't you think it's odd that you've carried  _exhaustion_  on to a new life?"

"I... Never thought about it. Is it?"

Elijah swallowed down hard, forced himself to hold Klaus' gaze. "You're dying, Niklaus."

And that... Well,  _that_  really was unexpected. Klaus' eyebrows shot up to his hairline in confusion. Trust Elijah to never dance around the point with controversial matters.

"I'm... what?"

"Dying. Your cycles are ending. You don't have much longer."

There was a space of silence for about five seconds before Klaus burst into laughter, so loud even Tatia turned to look. He only managed to reign himself in when he realized Elijah wasn't laughing as well. If anything he looked more serious than before. Sadder.

"It does sound impossible," he said. "When you hear that for the first time, anyway."

Klaus swallowed down the last bit of laughter feeling his heart grow heavy all of a sudden. "What the hell are you on about? I  _can't_  die."

"It happens. Eventually. We don't know how or when. That's just another thing that doesn't seem to make much sense about us. We don't know what creates us, we don't know what decides when it's time to take us away. But the same force that wants to ground us through anchors eventually finds a way of eliminating us." He made a pause then, drawing the air in sharply, and when he spoke again, his voice came out more than a little shaky around the edges. "And your time is almost over, Niklaus. I'm so sorry."

_Your time is almost over._

_You're dying._

There was a time when Klaus would've given anything to hear those words. But in his 23rd life, he wasn't sure what to make of it. Death had never seemed as a scary prospect to him; at most it was an inconvenience. It's really boring to be a three years old with the mind of hundreds of years. The last time he ever faced death as a normal person had been so long ago Klaus couldn't even remember what it felt like.

If it had been anyone else telling him that, he wouldn't have believed it. But it was Elijah. Elijah would never lie to him.

Dying. He was dying.

"How is that possible?"

"I was hoping I'd only ever have to explain that part to you when my time came. You know how we can feel each other's presence. Some of us can feel is stronger. Usually the older ones. The longer you live, the more sensitive you become to the shifts of time. And that's what we cause, a shift. These people, they know when someone new is born, and they know when someone is taken away from the timeline, either by assassination or because their time has simply faded. And when that is the case, they can usually tell beforehand. Sometimes lifetimes ahead."

"So... When I die, that will be it? I'm not coming back anymore?"

"Two lifetimes, Niklaus. You'll die on your 25th. You have this life and the next two to plan. And then it'll be over."

Two lifetimes. That suddenly felt like such little time. Was that how being a normal person felt like?

"How long have you known this?"

"Not long. I went to lots of people to confirm the information. Sometimes they sense different things. We make mistakes too. Unfortunately, it seems like they're right about you."

"Did I do something wrong?" Klaus asked, thinking back on all the bad decisions of before. Clearly he wasn't one of the good ones, but he could go for whole lifetimes without causing a stir. There were originals out there doing much worse. "Am I being punished?"

"No, it doesn't work like that. Some terrible people live for twenty thousand years, some perfectly well-behaved ones get taken away before their tenth cycle. We don't know. Maybe there's a cosmic disease killing us, and you just got infected."

Klaus fell silent again, immerse in his own head. There was too much to register.

_You're dying._

"Why are you telling me? Why not just let me go?"

"Because, Niklaus, I think you might have a thing or two you want to do with the time you have left. We don't tell everyone. Some people go crazy when they realize they're going to die, start ruining the timeline trying to fix it. But I don't think you're like that. You deserve to know. Take whatever time you have left, Niklaus, and spend it at your heart's will. If you want to be with the fine lady over there, that's good. She seems good. But if there's anywhere else you'd rather go... Don't hesitate."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 _Don't hesitate_.

Easier said than done.

Tell anyone they have a few more years to live and then ask them what they'll do with their time. The first thing is: they'll hesitate. It's too heavy a responsibility, too much for a person to bear, the weight of being precise with their decisions for whatever time they have left so they can die without regrets. And for someone like Klaus there was the added bonus of having to learn how to cope with mortality. It's not an idea that came naturally to him.

Yes, he still had a lot more time than the average person in roughly the same circumstances, but time was a very relative thing from his point of view. Two and a half lifetimes was nothing. It would go by in the blink of an eye.

Klaus did spend some more time with Tatia, but it just wasn't the same. After Elijah's visit, he found it hard to focus on anything again for a very long time. Work, relationships – it all blurred out a little. His head was always miles away. Tatia asked him a billion times who that man was - even she could trace Klaus' strange behavior back to Elijah - but Klaus never shared more than the fact that he was an old friend. At last he realized he'd become more of a burden to Tatia than anything, and she had completely lost her sparkle. Mortality, turns out, paints everything in a different hue. Klaus became introspective and sulky, considering possibilities that were far away from her tiny London flat and Sunday football.

They parted ways about six months later.

The rest of his 23rd life was spent in and out of The Strix' headquarters spread across the globe, seeing reborns to talk about  _death_. The subject was somewhat of a taboo for The Strix, which explained why Klaus had never heard of it before. The club's official position is that no one should be informed about their impending deaths because it's hard to predict reactions. The risk of having someone screwing up big time, either to try to save themselves or as a way to get revenge on an old foe, is way too high. Elijah was probably disrespecting direct orders when he told Klaus.

Finding other reborns open to discuss the matter demanded more patience from Klaus than he'd originally been willing to spare. Took him a while to come upon groups who diverged from The Strix's official stand. Some had already lost many beloved friends; a small few, Klaus found, were also on their countdown. Yet others had been alive for over five thousand years and not a sign that their cycles would be over any time soon. The system didn't follow any known or predictable patterns. There was no way to tell, no way to avoid it.

Once he got a grasp on the idea that his fate had already been sealed and there was nothing he could do to change it, Klaus decided he had to come up with a plan. Not only he'd have to keep a lid on his extreme anxiety issues, already rearing its ugly head again after lifetimes under control, but he had to figure out what to do with the time he had left.

And it had never seemed to move so fast before. His 23rd life was a difficult one to navigate. Coming to terms with his own mortality was harder than Klaus could've ever predicted it to be. There were so many times throughout the course of his existence where he'd wished for death to stick, craved for the sense of relief that came with closing his ways and giving in to the darkness knowing that it would be the end. He never realized how much he wanted to live until he heard that he wasn't going to for much longer. Why exactly did he want to keep going? What was there for him to do yet that he hadn't already?

And then he realized - it was her. Of course it was her. It was always her.

He couldn't be with her, and because he couldn't be with her he couldn't even see her, because he didn't trust himself enough to lay eyes on Caroline and not do anything stupid. And still, even 13 lifetimes later, there was a part of him that felt like he was on an interlude, killing time and waiting out for when it would make sense again to go back to her.

He held back on fixing the anchor situation for almost a thousand years, hoping that if he'd waited long enough, if he behaved well enough, then maybe something would happen, an answer would come, someone else would figure out a way to cheat Mother Nature. But no magic answers had been unearthed, and now he was out of time.

The one thing Klaus wanted more than anything else was the one thing he'd die without ever having achieved: a lifetime with Caroline.

His 23rd life ended in its usual painful way, but sooner. Klaus' disease consumed him faster than ever and took him at the age of 69.

Before that, however, he made a bucket list.

His 24th life was for seeing places and people that mattered to him once more before it was time to go. For normal people, that part doesn't take more than a few months, maybe years if they have enough of it to spare. For Klaus, it would take a bit longer. Fitting 23 lifetimes into one was… Well, for one, tricky.

He spent time with Trevor in his early years, went to see Rose in Costa Rica, then Vincent and Eva in New Orleans, stopped by Tatia's café a couple of times. Aurora was a hard one to track. She was as angry and rebellious as ever, never stopping for too long in one place, but he eventually located her stirring trouble in California. Klaus felt like he owed her something, like a thank you or an apology for being as absent and short-tempered as he was back when they met. Not that she remembered any of that, of course, but he wanted to be fair in his goodbyes. The time they spent together had never been about her at all; it was about Caroline. In her own complicated way, she'd given Klaus exactly the medicine he'd been in need of to placate the pain of that lifetime. So now it was time to give back.

Their second bout together was a short-lived one, spent traveling the East, where her demons had a harder time getting to her. Klaus could never give her what she truly wanted, which was to have him, completely, all to herself. But it was honest, at least, and he thinks she was the happiest he ever saw her. It was good enough for him.

Then it was Cami.

Klaus saved her for last because it was bound to be more complicated. For starters, there were lots of calculations involved in figuring out his timing so he wouldn't accidentally bump into Caroline at Rousseau's. And there was also the fact that Cami was simply different from the others. It wouldn't be just about stopping for a quick hello and a few shots and see you later. He spent 50 years with her once, which is still the most Klaus has ever been with anyone in a single life. There's no way she could ever be like everyone else.

She wasn't working at Rousseau's anymore by the time he found her, but was still a regular as a client. Just as it happened when she was with Klaus, all those lifetimes before, she got her degree and started a practice. She wasn't the same 20-someting idealist Klaus first met; now she was the mature mid-thirties Camille who'd said yes when Klaus asked her to move in together.

When he found her, he meant to step forward and just strike up conversation - it wasn't hard at all; all you had to do was catch her eye and say 'Hello, how's it going'. Camille was humanly incapable of ignoring words directed at her, even if she wasn't working there anymore. He watched her for a while, waiting for a cue, but something stopped him. The way she was interacting with the other people there, with Marcel, held Klaus back.

Soon enough, he realized what it was. Camille wasn't there just because she liked Rousseau's. She was there because Marcel was, now apparently the manager, and they were together. So Klaus was right before. In his absence, Marcel Gerard was the person she was meant to end up with.

Of course it had occurred to him that he might find Cami already spoken for at this stage of her life, and he even suspected that Marcel was a strong possibility, but Klaus thought he would've been more disturbed by it. It wasn't jealousy what he felt, but a strong sense of disappointment. He'd wanted to be with Cami, even if just for a while, but he couldn't do that now. He couldn't just dive in and ruin her life, disrupt her timeline. He'd lost his chance. It was too late.

What to do, then?

Klaus must've spent hours staring into nothing, nursing a pint he barely touched, because suddenly he found himself being snapped out of his thoughts by someone saying, "Hey." He blinked, and found Cami, who'd taken the vacated seat next to him, smiling. "You ok there?"

"I... Yes," he replied after a moment of taking it in. She looked... Exactly the same. Same voice, same smile, same kind eyes. The 17 lives Klaus spent apart from her had shaken him up in every possible way and spat out someone different from the man she got to know. And yet Camille remained exactly the same. It was always a bit painful when that realization dawned on him, made him feel a little less human, a little more like an anomaly that shouldn't exist.

"I'm sorry, you must think I'm insane," she continued. "I promise I'm not. I'm a therapist - which is one step below crazy, but still sane. I was watching you - again, not a creeper, just really observant, it's a thing that I do - and you spaced out for  _hours_ , man."

"Did I?" Klaus asked, grinning at how familiar the conversation felt. "Bloody hell. My beer's gone warm."

"Tell you what. I'll buy you another one and you can tell me what's gotten into you." Klaus opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off before he had a chance to say anything. "I know, you're probably wondering  _Why the hell would I talk to that crazy lady?_ , but like I said, I'm a professional and I worked here for years as a bartender and I just can't help it. I see someone who looks like he could use a bit of conversation, I just have to start it. I'm Cami, by the way."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cami," he said, a dimpled smile the size of the world on his face. "Klaus."

"I got a name! Is that a yes, then?"

"I'd be insane to turn down a free therapy session, wouldn't I?"

" _Exactly_! That's what I keep saying to that handsome fellow back there," she points to Marcel. "He thinks I'm scaring people away and being freaky."

"Nonsense."

"Thank you. I like you already. Marcel," she said, slamming her hand down on the counter. "Two pints, please!"

"Is she harassing you, sir?" Marcel asked when he brought their glasses. "I can get her kicked out if she is. But she just keeps coming back in."

"I'm about to get a free consult," Klaus replied. "And a free pint. Sounds like a good deal to me."

Cami gave Marcel a pointed look, arching her eyebrows in a triumphant  _See?!_  way. "It's a great deal."

Marcel rolled his eyes and grinned affectionately. "Do not hesitate to call me if this gets uncomfortable, sir. I've told this lady several times that this is not the way to prospect new clients, she just won't listen to me."

"I'll let you know."

"Behave, Cami", he said before going back to work.

"So," she continued, fixing her full attention on Klaus and gulping from her pint. "What's your story, Klaus?"

"Well," Klaus started. "There's this girl..."

Klaus told her about a girl he loved but who kept escaping him. He told her about how much he wanted to go to her, how every inch of skin on his body longed to be close to her again, but that he knew that being with him meant she would have to give up on certain things. He felt it was unfair to strip her of her dreams, of a future that held such great accomplishments, just because he couldn't fathom happiness without her.

Camille didn't shut up for the next two hours. Obviously Klaus didn't tell her half the story, left out some pretty massive parts that were sure to swing her opinion, but she actually made some pretty interesting points that got Klaus thinking that perhaps he should've sat down with her to discuss Caroline before.

"It's noble of you to want to protect her, but she's a grown woman, Klaus - I mean, she  _is_  a grown woman, right? Please tell me we're not talking about an underage girl here."

"Perfectly grown woman."

"Good. So my point stands. You just want to make decisions for her based on what  _you_  think is right, but you can't. You have to let her decide for herself. It's her life. Wanting to take over the wheels for her is incredibly narcissistic of you."

Klaus cocked her an eyebrow. "Narcissistic? How am I being narcissistic if all I want is the best for her?"

"You just answered your own question. You think  _you_  know what's best for her and that she's incapable of making a solid decision. Have you asked her? Have you talked to her, openly?"

"It's... Complicated."

"Maybe. But it's never as complicated as not talking. Conversation is the cornerstone of any healthy relationship. And removing the choices about  _her life_  from her just makes you a jackass."

"Never remove the choices, man," Marcel said, joining them. Klaus didn't realize that it was just the three of them there. The pub closed and he didn't even notice it. "Gets me in trouble every time."

They continued to talk for hours yet, the three of them, like in the old days, as though Klaus hadn't sat out for 17 lifetimes. They had chemistry, that group. Conversation just flowed, and if Cami didn't have a patient to see the next morning, they probably would've kept going way into the night.

Elijah says normal people never remember, not even as an afterthought. "What we're reborn into are like alternate realities, Niklaus. What we lived before doesn't exist anymore - not to us, and definitely not to them," he always said. Klaus thinks there might be something there - some sort of impression or an attraction so subtle that can go by completely unnoticed. The principle is the same as with the anchors. It's just easier to get along with certain people. So maybe they don't have  _memories_  per se, but they have  _something_.

If he had more time, Klaus would go deeper into his theory.

Seeing as he doesn't, he just resigned himself to going back to Rousseau's time and time again, sometimes just to hang out with Marcel, sometimes with the two of them. Being the third wheel for that couple never bothered him, and if they felt awkward, they never showed. Camille was as gentle and accommodating as ever, but she didn't show any signs of interest in Klaus other than as a friend, not even after he started going to her office for proper therapy sessions - that consisted mostly of Klaus telling her about his life as though she were his biographer. He told himself that if she seemed interested, he'd make a move. Otherwise, he was fine just being friends.

Talking, he found, was a relief. His second life had left Klaus scarred for good when it came to seeking professional advice. He knew for a fact that there was nothing anyone could ever say or do to help his particular case and if he ever went into too many details, they'd just want to stuff him with medication and admit him into facilities again. He never told Camille the truth either, but just being able to unload some of his burden, put it out into the world, even if in incredibly vague terms, was liberating.

Cami and Marcel tried to set him up with a girl or another every now and then, taking him on surprise double dates. None of them ever stuck for too long. His record was two weeks with a friend of Camille's named Ivy.

"I give up," Cami said after Ivy informed her of their break up. "I've tried  _everything_. All my friends, friends of friends, even people I barely know. It's like you don't have a type."

"I'm… comprehensive."

" _Or_  you're too hung up on someone else. You have to tell me who that girl is. I can't die without figuring out the kind of woman who's capable of hooking the heart of Rousseau's most eligible bachelor."

Being single wasn't a hassle. It never was. Klaus was lonely even when he was surrounded by a crowd. Relationships, serious ones, were, in Klaus' experience, more troublesome than they were rewarding, with a few exceptions. Scoring someone to share his bed was easy enough whenever he felt like it, but that wasn't the point of his 24th life. He wanted to spend it with Camille in a more intimate manner, and it's exactly what he did. Not as he'd anticipated, sure, but in many ways it was even better. Their therapy sessions were a blessing in judgmental disguise. Marcel was the brother he never had. And when he was standing at the altar on Camille's wedding, as Marcel's best man, he knew he'd accomplished exactly what he had set out to do for that life.

His disease caught up to him sooner yet this time. Klaus could feel his soul getting weaker as his body grew more and more tired. Elijah said he'd feel the effects of time ebbing away, so he wasn't surprised when death came at the age of 59. He didn't fight too hard. There was no reason to prolong the suffering. Cami and Marcel were there with him when he took his last breaths. Klaus remembers looking at Camille's big green eyes, so full of compassion, and saying, "Her name is Caroline."

Cami smiled then, the tears she'd been holding back rolling down her cheeks. "That's a beautiful name," she said.

That's the last Klaus remembers of his 24th life. All things considered, he did well. His purposes for that lifetime had all been fulfilled. Everyone he wanted to see one last time, the places he set out to revisit, all checked out. Just one more life ahead of him, one more rebirth before it was all over.

For his last life, there was just one place Klaus wanted to go. One person he wanted to see.

He patiently waited for the 21st of April of 2018. It felt like a billion years, but it's finally here. His last 21st of April of 2018.

Caroline is as late as ever. As annoyed as ever. As wet and disheveled as ever.

Fifteen lives spent away from that woman and still his pulse races, his mouth goes dry and his breath falters at the sight of her. Every part of his body shakes in anticipation, desperate to get closer, to  _feel_  her again.

He doesn't care what anyone else or The Strix has to say. Fuck this anchor bullshit they keep throwing around. This is  _love_. Overwhelming, all-consuming, larger-than-life love. The greatest love of all. The love of all his lives.

This is Klaus' last life, and he just wants to say goodbye to the one person who gave meaning to all the twenty that came before.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics at the beginning are from _With Every Heart Beat_ by Robyn.


	3. If so

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! It seems I have finally finished something I started. Congratulations to me. :) I've been going through a terrible writer's block, couldn't even get the strength to edit this final chapter, which was technically already finished.
> 
> Like I said before, this ending is different from the original one. Totally different. It's bittersweet still, but more on the happy side of things, I guess. I hope you guys enjoy it! :)
> 
> I warned about this on the first chapter, but since it comes up again: trigger warning for suicide mentions! Please, if this is a trigger for you, be careful. I promise I do not want to make anybody upset.

_Oh, you're in my veins_   
_And I cannot get you out_   
_Oh, you're all I taste_   
_At night inside of my mouth_   
_Oh, you run away_   
_'Cause I am not what you found_   
_Oh, you're in my veins_   
_And I cannot get you out_

* * *

**Three years later**

Klaus tips his chin up, taking in all the two hundred and sixty two feet of free fall from the roof of the building across the street to the pavement.

He's been thinking a lot about the afterlife lately. Or whatever name what comes after you're dead has. It's not something Klaus gave much consideration before. There was no point. It's too big a question to ponder, too many variables and hazy unfounded theories, gives anyone a headache. Why bother if you won't stay dead?

To Klaus, afterlife was a bit like a blank space, a lot like falling into a deep sleep after an excruciatingly long day, then spending a couple of years very drunk, then hungover, before everything finally started to make sense again, sometime after his third or fourth year in the next life.

The first time he died, back when he still thought it would stick, he was so sick in his late 70s he barely had a moment to consider what would come next. He wanted it to be over soon, for some higher power to take pity on his suffering and come down to relieve him of his earthly pain. That was all there was in his mind back then, as far as he can remember: pain.

Well, after everything he's been through in his almost two thousand years of existence, here he is, face to face once more with the sticky death situation. It's not the pain that worries him now. It's what comes next.

Is there anything at all? Is he still a conscience? Is he still able to see? To feel? Or is it just darkness?

Klaus doesn't believe in God. He's pretty sure there must be a higher power somewhere, like a cosmic force of some sort ruling over the universe and keeping the balance. He doesn't think of that power as a God in the usual manner, though. It's hard to do so when you're a reborn. For some reason, he doesn't think bestowing infinite resurrection powers is a very godly thing. At least not a godly thing that would be bestowed upon ordinary humans. No, that higher force exists to keep harmony and make sure life progresses as smoothly as possible - and also to eventually fix mistakes, like creating beings who can skip across alternate timelines by being brought back to life over and over again.

That's what Elijah believes, anyway. It sounds reasonable enough. But not even he has any guesses on what the afterlife is like. No one's ever come back to share the experience.

Well, he'll find out soon enough, anyway.

All he knows is that two hundred and sixty two feet of free fall has never seemed so inviting.

It's not that he wants to die; it's just that he's lived long enough, and throughout his entire existence he's been a pawn in the hands of fate. A couple of accidents killed him along the way, but Klaus only ever took his own life on purpose once, and for reasons he considers to be more than sufficiently justifiable. Overall, he died more natural deaths than the unnatural kind.

After a brief moment of panic, of not knowing what to do, Klaus realized that the wind is finally blowing the other way. For the first time, he has the power to decide when and how he dies entirely in his hands. All he needs to do is take control.

And that's exactly what he did. He took control.

There won't be much left of Klaus Mikaelson when he hits the pavement, two hundred and sixty two feet beneath him. No more than a pool of blood and broken bones. It's not exactly a dark though, more like a gory one. There were other options, of course. Faster ones. Cleaner ones. But there is no poetry in a shot to the head or lethal doses of Tylenol. The seconds that it will take for him to hit the ground will be the longest in his life - and that is saying a lot. He'd like to take that moment to... Do something. Revisit his Top 5 Best Moments? Remember Caroline? Free himself of all the weight of 2000 years of living by staring death in the eye and knowing that, this time, it will last? So many options, so little time.

"Finally!" Caroline's heels echo in the night as she comes down the steps of the Tate Britain, where they just attended the private view of a new exhibition about British art from the 1500s. Since Caroline took the job at the Tate Modern, the receptions and galas have become a constant on their social calendar. Klaus has very little patience for that sort of gathering where the art gets relegated to second place while all everyone's interested is getting the tycoons to sign more checks, but it's important for Caroline's career to navigate these circles and make herself noticed by the people on the higher stances, so Klaus makes an effort to keep his temper in check for a few hours. He reckons it could be a lot worse. At least it's still art. Everything else failing, he can walk away and distract himself by admiring the pictures hanging on the walls. A few lifetimes back, he got three of his works on the Tate Britain. He's still proud of that.

"I thought they'd never let me go," she says, joining him on the pavement, wrapping her coat tightly around herself. "Jesus, why is it so cold outside?"

"It's London. It's always cold. You're lucky it's not raining." He offers her his arm as they start walking towards their flat, not very far from there. It's actually a rather beautiful night, but the wind is mercilessly biting on their faces and Caroline definitely underestimated the weather when she picked her outfit. Klaus tried to warn her.  _"While I appreciate your input, my goal here is to look good, not to feel warm. Now, is this dress too tight?"_  was her reply.

"We're at the end of May, for God sakes. I should be able to get my skirts and form-fitting dresses out of the closet already."

"Years and years in England and you still haven't realized this country despises mild weather?"

"I'm eternally hopeful," she replies through chattering teeth. "Don't let me get out of the apartment in a short dress again until at least July, please."

Klaus smirks. "I'm afraid I can't make any promises, love." He stops, taking off his overcoat and throwing it over her shoulders. "There. Better?"

"Yes, thank you," she says, grinning. "But now  _you're_  going to freeze."

"Please. I'm British. This is practically summer."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I insult your English pride?"

"We're very protective of our national treasures on this side of the Atlantic. The Queen, Earl Grey and mediocre weather."

If happiness had a sound, Klaus thinks, it would be the sound of Caroline's laughter. His happiness, anyway. With the history they have, all the lasting, overwhelming pain and grief, it's hard to keep the simple, easy moments at the forefront of his memories. But this is why he loves Caroline. Not because she's always escaping him, but because she is such a huge presence when she's near. She makes him feel alive. Makes him want to  _stay_  alive. Not a good many things can do that to Klaus.

"What time is it?" she asks after a moment.

"Just a little past midnight."

Caroline halts, and when Klaus turns to look at her, the gigantic smile threatening to split her face in two, he immediately understands the mistake he just made. "Oh, bloody hell," he mutters.

She opens her arms and starts bouncing on her feet. "It's May 30th!"

"Yes, love, it happens once a year, every year, unfortunately."

"Oh, come on! You're gonna be like that today? Seriously?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, I'm always like that."

"No, you're not. You're in your extra grumpy mood. How are you not excited? It's your birthday!"

"I don't see why I should be particularly elated, no."

"Your  _thirtieth_  birthday!"

"I feel no different than I did at 29. Or 28, for that matter."

" _Everything_  is different. You're officially an adult now."

"Pretty sure I've been overage for little over a decade."

"No. You were a  _young adult_.  _Now_  you're an adult. And when you reach your 40s, you'll be -"

"Old."

Caroline makes a less than amused face. " _Mature_."

"That is euphemism, love."

She rolls her eyes at him and takes his arm again as they resume walking. "Come on. You only turn thirty once."

Klaus lets out a sardonic little laugh. If only she knew... Birthdays lose their appeal once you live through them as many times as he has, but, in each lifetime he spent with Caroline – the ones where they made it that far, anyway – his 30th birthday was always a moment to remember. Caroline loves birthdays, and she always made sure his plunge into the 30s was a memorable celebration. Klaus holds dear memories of that date.

In this life, however, reaching his 30s means getting closer to running out of time. Caroline has one more death to avoid and only four more years before the one he cannot stop. There's nothing to celebrate here.

"I'm thinking balloons and party hats.  _Oh_! I should get one of those fireworksy candles! Or maybe 30 small ones. It would look nice on a chocolate ganache cake," she muses.

"That's lovely, sweetheart. But - correct me if I'm mistaken - did I not repeat at least 257 times this week that I do not want birthday celebrations?"

"I wouldn't know. I wasn't listening. I block out your grumpiness and the general negativity. Besides, I've already invited all your two friends, so I'm afraid you don't have a choice. That dinner party is happening."

"That is incredibly narcissistic of you."

Caroline scoffs. "Narcissistic? I'm throwing  _you_  a party to celebrate  _your_  birthday with  _your_  friends. It's all about  _you_. How is that narcissistic?"

"You're removing the choice from me based on your personal selfish belief that you, and only you, know what's best even when I repeatedly tell you that I do not want the party."

"Oh  _God_ ," Caroline says, throwing her head back and making an  _aaaaaargh_  sound in her throat. "I need to have a word with Cami about this. She's getting you  _ideas_. Am I really gonna have to forbid you from seeing her?"

"Does that mean I don't get to have a party?"

" _After_  your party, I mean. And especially without supervision. She should know better than to feed the monster."

He lets out a weary sigh, but can't really help the affectionate smile that spreads on his lips. "Just to be clear," Klaus says. "I have a grand total of  _three_  friends. Not two." It's four friends, actually, but Caroline doesn't know about Elijah.

"If you're counting Cami and Marcel as two of those three than you still have two friends."

"How does that make sense? Trevor, Camille and Marcel. That's three."

"Cami and Marcel are attached at the hips. They count as one."

"I think the government would disagree with you."

"What does the government have to do with this?"

"They gave each of them a different social security number and they each have to pay their own taxes separately. I think that makes them two individuals, not one."

"Oh, screw the government."

"Anarchism?" Klaus says, stopping and placing both his hands on Caroline's shoulders so she's facing him. "I like that."

She smiles. "Then you'll love your dinner party."

"I've got everything I want for my birthday right here." Klaus slides his hands down her arms and then wraps them around her waist, pulling her into him. "I want it to be just us."

"Who says you can't have both things? It can be just us, and then all four-ish of us, and then it'll be just us again." Caroline leans into him and places a tiny little kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I may or may not have bought celebratory lingerie for the occasion," she whispers. "But I have conditions."

"Well, why didn't you start with information? My interest was just piqued," Klaus says with a smirk. "What are your demands?"

"First, you have to attend your birthday party and you have to  _enjoy_  it."

"Can I pretend?"

"No. You have to actually, genuinely appreciate it. And don't even try to play smart on me, I can tell when you're faking it."

Klaus lets out a mock-pained sigh. "I suppose I can try. Is that all?"

"No more calling me narcissistic."

"Aren't you the one who declared your own birthday everyone's official favorite day?"

"So?"

"You don't think that's narcissistic?"

"Do you disagree?"

Klaus smirks, thinking of their birthday mornings traditions. "Can't say that I do."

"There's your answer, then."

Klaus' laughter sounds incredibly loud on the deserted street, just the two of them braving the icy wind by the Thames. He puts a hand on the back of Caroline's neck and crashes their lips together. She makes a pleased little sound against his mouth, combing her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck and deepening the kiss. Klaus can feel electricity coursing through him, warmth that starts in his chest and radiates outwards. It's like this every time, fireworks exploding inside of him.

For the longest time, Klaus convinced himself that staying away from Caroline wasn't necessary only to save her life, but also for self-preservation. That kind of destructive love couldn't be worth it, the amount of pain he was made to bear for defying the rules was just too great. He knows now that that was a load of bollocks. That kind of love is always worth it. Having it, even if for just a second, is better than never knowing it. The feeling of having her in his arms, the sound of her laughter, the taste of her lips, the sparkle in her eyes as she plans a birthday party he doesn't even want to have - nothing ever compares to it.

Up until the second his phone started ringing on the 21st of April of 2018, Klaus had no idea whether he'd take the call or not. In the end, his better judgement got beaten by his usual lack of reason when it comes to Caroline Forbes. They did the same thing they always do: dinner, drinks, hotel... Three years and several death traps avoided later, here they are. Glued together as though that is the  _only_  possible choice. Like it was never a choice at all. They're the endgame that never gets to see itself through.

For a while, he considered filling her into the whole story - the reborns, the anchors, the two thousand years of sulking around, all the works. It was his plan. But how likely is it that she'll actually believe him? He can't prove it. Unless he tells her she's going to get cancer years before she does, and then chances are she'll just be angry with him, blaming him for it. It would change the way she sees him and tamper with whatever time they have left. Klaus has had enough of that shit. That's not what he wants for his last life.

Then he considered offing himself before Caroline gets sick. He even wrote a letter and hid it in his things, explaining to her why he had to do it, why he had to take matters into his own hands, telling her it's not her fault, that she should carry on with her life. Maybe, by letting her go voluntarily, he'd be freeing her from the cancer too. She works with Stefan Salvatore at the museum, who knows? Things could still work out for her. He doesn't like to think about it because it makes him jealous even though he'd be dead, and by his own choice, but it'd be something, anyway. Caroline could still end up with the healthy and un-deadly love of her life.

Elijah, however, demoted him of the idea. It doesn't matter if he kills himself before she gets her terminal disease, she'll still die her anchor death. The damage of meeting him was done the second Klaus took that call on the 21st of April of 2018. There isn't an outcome where they make it out of this unscathed. His premature death would only mean that she'd be alone and miserable to fight the tumor once the time came. It's his last life, but he wouldn't do that to her.

So Klaus will soldier on until the end. He'll be there to hold her hand every step of the way, to wrap his arms around her when she gets scared, to wipe her tears when she cries, and to take care of Caroline until she takes her very last breath. He hopes, maybe, that Elijah is at least a little bit wrong. He feels weaker, tired, so maybe that means the anchor curse has been weakened too, and that will hopefully give them a few more years together. Either way, however long it takes, he'll be by her side. And until the day comes, he'll make sure to make her as happy as she makes him.

Caroline doesn't know, but he has big plans for his birthday too. It's actually why he was so persistent that they spend it alone, just the two of them. But if it'll make her happy to celebrate his 30th with his three friends – who happen to be her friends too - then so be it. His plans will have to wait until the weekend. The train tickets to Cardiff are already bought, and so is the ring, beautifully wrapped in the blue Tiffany box, the same one he got all those lifetimes ago. They'll live happily ever after, until death do them part. She'll know she was loved more than anything, including time and life itself, and when he finally leaves this world, after her death, it'll be with a light heart and the certainty that he lived his life, all his lives, to the fullest.

When they finally pull apart, Klaus takes a deep breath, the cold night air filling his lungs. He's never felt more alive. Having the power to decide his own destiny is liberating. For the first time ever, this is just about him. His life, his choices, his needs. He's not compensating for anything, not running away from anyone, he's just... Living. Doing exactly what he wants to do, taking each day at a time, appreciating what he's got, and accepting what he cannot change. It took him centuries to realize it, but this is what life is truly about: moving forward at your own pace, making decisions as you go, trying not to predict the future. It's funny, but it feels almost nice to have this nervous feeling at the pit of his stomach, a type of anxiety that isn't paralyzing or terrifying, but exciting.

When Klaus looked at that building and decided how he would leave the world in his final life, he was letting go of something huge and heavy and not his burden anymore. And it feels  _good_. He is sorry that he won't have Caroline with him 'till the end, that he won't ever grow old next to her, but he holds no grudges, no resentments. Not anymore. Twenty five lifetimes is more than enough. He came, he saw, he conquered. And now it's time to go. He's ok with that.

Klaus Mikaelson is finally ready to live the life of a mortal man.

"Happy birthday," Caroline murmurs against his mouth, in between small kisses.

"I love you," he says, and feels her lips quirking into a sunbeam smile.

"I love you too."

The end is near, but it's still a bit further ahead on the road. He's got something more to give to this world and to the woman in his arms.

Tonight, Klaus lives. For real.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Epilogue**

Elijah Michaels is many things.

He's a gentleman of refined tastes and polite manners. He's an extremely well-accomplished pianist with a passion for the classics. Chopin's Ballade No. 1 is, in his not-so-modest opinion, one of the greatest pieces of music ever created. He is also an admirer of beautiful things: art, sunsets on warm summer days, finely cut suits, a Bulgarian woman with a smile like sunbeam.

In this lifetime, Elijah Michaels is also a famous criminal defense lawyer who specializes in post-conviction relief. It's an odd choice of career for someone who's running out of time; you'd think he'd pursue something more meaningful or soul enhancing to fill his final two lifetimes with. But, when faced with the impossible task of having to decide what he would do with his remaining years, the first thing that came to Elijah's mind was how incredibly excited and passionate he'd been for practicing law in his very first life. It was his original craft, what his mortal calling had been, and, since then, he's only ever returned to it a handful of time, all to great personal satisfaction. The harder the case, the more pleasure it brings him - which is exactly why criminal defense has always been his favorite area. It takes a lot of brain, a lot of strategy and investigative capacities to overturn a conviction, and Elijah simply loves the thrill of it. Preferably, he takes on cases of people he believes are innocent but who have been wronged by the system, but his résumé is also made up of a few high profile cases he simply took because they found them challenging. It's probably not one of the most humane callings, but it suits Elijah's argumentative brilliancy, and, well. He's spent countless lifetimes nurturing his soul; it's only fair that he gets to do what brings him most pleasure with the little time he has left.

Elijah Michaels is also 6.678 years old. In this lifetime, however, he just turned 42.

He's currently in his 92º cycle, which so happens to be his second-to-last. There's hardly anything in this world he hasn't tried, done or experienced yet, but this life has saved him a few pleasant novelties.

Like, for instance, the state of being  _restless_  about someone else's life.

If there's one thing Elijah Michaels definitely  _isn't_  is antsy. He does get agitated, at very rare times even nervous, but it's always in a good sense. Like before he addresses a jury for the first time or while he waits for a verdict to be delivered. The never-ending minutes right before Katerina Petrova approaches his table at the restaurant in Cardiff he frequently attends on the 16th of May of 2008. "Good evening, sir. Have you decided on your order yet? I can offer some recommendations if you need."

"I was thinking about the duck," is his answer, which Katerina always responds to by scrunching up her nose and shaking her head, an adorable thing she does whenever she hears an answer that doesn't particularly pleases her, and which captivated Elijah since the very first time he saw it.

"I'm not supposed to tell you this, and I'll probably get laid off if you tell my manager, but the duck here is extremely bland. If you want a good duck, try Ramon's, a little further down the street."

Elijah knows that's what she's going to say, of course, but it always makes him laugh. "Are you suggesting that I leave this establishment?"

"Not at all, sir. But I don't like to fool the clients. I'm supposed to sell you the duck, because it's one of the most expensive items on our menu, but it's just not worth your money, and if I tell you to order the duck, you're going to be disappointed and it'll be my fault," she explains, putting a lock of brown hair behind her ear.

"I see. So your tips must come before the restaurant's profit."

The smile she gives him then completely disarms him -  _every. single. time_.

"A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do to survive," she says, shrugging.

"And what would that girl's recommendation be, then?"

"Try the entrecote with the herbed butter sauce and fries. It'll make you a regular."

_It's not the steak that will make me a regular,_  Elijah thought then, at the very first time - and he was right.

"Sounds perfect. I'll also have a glass of your best wine, and your name," he tells her. "Just so I know who to address the tip to."

She beams triumphantly then. "It's Katerina, but if you're planning on being generous - please, call me Kat."

The anxiety about Katerina is a short-lived one. It lasts only for the two minutes he waits pretending to read the menu, before she comes to take his order. Then it's all very easy - her smiles, the conversation, the meal - it really is terrific, she wasn't lying - and her phone number, which he doesn't even have to ask for. She writes it down under the check, next to a  _K_  and a little smiley face. It never changes, whenever he does go to her on the 16th of May of 2008, as he did on this lifetime. It had been 50 cycles since the last time he went to that restaurant. Fifty. For his last two, Elijah decided to send reason to hell and follow his heart's desire.

His beautiful Katerina has been dead for six months. He manages to save her of no less than five times, but the sixth is always unstoppable, not matter what he does. Still, they got to have happy ten years together, ten years where every day felt like a dream. Fifty years away from her were not enough to soften the pain of losing her. It always destroys him, pulls him apart completely. But there's nowhere else Elijah would want to spend his final lifetimes than by her side. Even if it hurts, even if it kills his soul way before it does his body. Ten years loving Katerina are worth anything.

And precisely because he understands that so well, what's about to go down today is making Elijah restless in a way he doesn't know how to handle.

He barely had any sleep the night before, already had five cups of coffee, and it's not even nine yet. It's such an alien sensation, being this rattled because of something that's supposed to happen to someone else. But Elijah feels responsible. It's his personal project for this life. He's waited for this day for  _so long_. Now that it is finally here, he can barely contain his nerves.

It's a special kind of challenge because he can't depend on his own efforts in order to guarantee the mission's success. Elijah needs to remove himself completely, can't go anywhere near the action, not even as an observer. How it will unfold is, for the first time, completely at the mercy of fate. And fate has never been kind to his kind. His gut feeling, however, has never once failed him. It's part of the reason why he's such a successful lawyer.

Elijah has an unshakable faith on the favorable outcome of this endeavor. All it needs is a little push.

He would, however, be far more relaxed if Niklaus had already left the office.

"Have you got everything you need yet?" he asks as he stops by the door on his investigator's office.

Klaus doesn't even look up from his computer, frantically typing away. "Almost."

Elijah sighs. It's so difficult to imbue the importance of something to someone when you can't be  _clear_  about it. He looks down at his watch. It's 8:20 am. "You have a train to catch, Niklaus."

"Not for a while."

"You can't be late."

"There's another train half an hour later, I'll be fine."

"No, you won't," Elijah says, so firmly that it prompts Klaus to finally look at him. "It's of the utmost importance that you catch the 9:50 train. Not a minute before, or after. Just because we're not dealing with a big client here, it does not mean that we'll treat the case with any less professionalism. You have an interview to conduct and you will be there fashionably on time."

Klaus snorts. "What, did you wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning?"

"Niklaus," Elijah admonishes.

"Fine. What do I know, trying to do my job and further digging into the story before you send me out a wild goose chase? I stand by my previous assessment that this trip will be a monumental waste of my time, but you sign the checks around here. Have it your way." He turns off his computer and rolls his chair away from his desk. Elijah faced a lot of frowns when he announced he'd be hiring a 23 years old, fresh out of college investigator. His partners knew better than to mistrust his judgement, but he has to admit that it was a rather unusual hiring. Having a good investigator is, in his line of business, the difference between winning and losing a case. A firm as big as theirs, bringing on someone with so little experience for such an important role, was unseen. But it didn't take long for Niklaus to prove his worth. He's relentless, dotted with ungodly natural instincts and just the right amount of charm to counterbalance his temper. Four years after his admission, no one dares to question his capacities anymore. Other firms have tried to steal him away, but Elijah spends an outrageous amount of money to keep him exclusively. And the reason is that he had to make sure that, come the 21st of April of 2018, Niklaus will do exactly as he says and get on the 9:50 train to Cardiff.

Elijah personally scheduled this interview with one of the parties involved in his latest case for today. In fact, he unearthed this possible witness out of the depths of hell. The person was just as baffled to be contacted by him as Niklaus was when he tried to explain the connection. He's certain it is a great waste of resources and will lead to nothing, but he's been careful to firmly maintain the importance of eliminating every single alternative, even the most unlikely ones. The witness' convenient residence in Cardiff was all Elijah needed.

Normally, following dead ends makes Niklaus extremely frustrated and impossible to handle around the office for days, but that's a small price to pay. Besides, if things go as Elijah believes they will, Klaus will be thanking him by the time the day is over.

Elijah gives the other man a thorough once over as he puts on his coat. He's far from impressed, but the only sign of his displeasure at Niklaus' choice of outfit is a light purse of his lips. "I thought we discussed the need for you to look more presentable?"

"I thought I made it clear I do not care."

"You do realize you're talking to your employer?"

"You do realize I still do not care?"

Elijah sighs. He wants to smile, really. Niklaus' disregard for his authority evokes nothing but good feelings, unearthing precious memories from the deepest corners of Elijah's mind, where he keeps his most cherished parts of his previous lives. Klaus' humor is famously volatile and most people in the office try their best not to cross him, but the honesty with which he addresses Elijah, name partner and top most important person on the firm, feels almost reminiscent of a sense of intimacy that should've been lost to them. He wonders if there isn't some truth to that theory Niklaus shared with him once, about how normal people, outside of the anchors, must carry imprints of previous lives as well, even if they cannot remember. Elijah never personally believed it, seeing that he's lived for 92 cycles and not once saw any evidence to corroborate the idea. But he's been frequently finding himself wishing it to be true in this life, searching for the tiniest hints of confirmation.

He misses his old friend. Niklaus is still the same person Elijah got to meet as a desperate teenager studying inoperable tumors all those lifetimes ago, but there are just things that are impossible to replicate without the remembrance of previous lives. The weight of all his 25 lifetimes shaped Niklaus into who he was, at times a bit worse for wear, at times a bit more hopeful, depending on whether he was coming from a particularly bad or good cycle. He was the sum of all his experiences. The paralyzing anxiety and paranoia that permeated his whole lives after the experience of being admitted into a mental institution, abandoned by his family and crudely treated for a disease he did not have, simply does not exist. And neither does the pain and the joy of loving Caroline Forbes.

When he was informed that Klaus' cycles were ending, after confirming the verdict, Elijah found himself at odds with a question. Should he share the whole truth of his destiny with Niklaus, or let him believe that death would be absolutely final, and allow him the chance of making peace with himself and say goodbye to his existence the best way he could? Eventually, Elijah opted for the latter because he felt Niklaus needed it. His love for Caroline remained so pure, so absolute, incorruptible even after so much loss, so many years of separation that Elijah wanted to give them the chance of living happily together, for as long as they could, without all the guilt and the sorrow. Klaus knew exactly what would happen, and he accepted it. He'd lose the love of his life one more time, but he was finally at peace with that, knowing that he'd soon be gone himself. For once, Niklaus found true, untarnished happiness. His final life was exactly what it was supposed to be, exactly what he wanted to make of it, and when Elijah received a call from the police to inform him of his friend's death, a year after Caroline's, he understood it immediately.

Klaus had taken the reigns of his existence into his own hands, said goodbye in his own terms, and then he was gone. He  _needed_  that, and Elijah's minor omission of the whole truth was what gave him the chance to find peace. Had he known what would come after, he was certain to have done things differently. Maybe he wasn't being the best of friends, but he only had Niklaus' best interests at heart. Just as he does now.

The words on the letter addressed to him they found in Niklaus' pocket will be seared onto Elijah's mind for as long as his eternal conscience lasts. If he closes his eyes, he can see it, each word written in Klaus' elegant handwriting.

_Dearest Elijah,_

_I spent the better part of my last 100 years saying goodbye. I thought it would be harder than it was, truth be told, that it would break me, but it did the exact opposite. I feel healed, my soul lighter than ever - granted, it might be because I am actually dying, and the weight of time ebbing away is a tangent feeling, but even the most skeptical side of me prefers not to see it in such cold manner, at least not this time. I'm genuinely content and, for the first time ever, I can say that I carry absolutely no regrets with me._

_The reason I'm writing you this letter is because, first, I feel like a suicide demands a note. I apologize if this bothers you, but I don't think that it will. I think you understand. As you well know, I have no one else to write to, moreover, I have no one else I'd rather direct my last words to. They'll be safe with you. I now trust you with my death, Elijah, just I trusted you with my life for hundreds of years._

_Secondly, I wanted to assure you once more that my restless soul has finally found peace. I know you, Elijah. You will be wondering whether there was anything more you could've done for me. Will comb through all our conversations just to find something you could've said, and whip yourself up for having missed the opportunity._ _**Don't** _ _. I mean it._

_I also write to you because you may be wondering why I didn't seek you out to say goodbye in person, and the reason is that I simply couldn't. Bidding farewell to the world and the people in it has been a very intimate and personal, and at times lonely, matter. No one ever knew I was saying goodbye. You, on the other hand, would've known, and I simply could not get myself to find the right words. Simply putting it, I didn't know how to say goodbye, Elijah. I hope you can forgive me. Know that, in my own way, I have loved you like a brother._

_Lastly, I'm here to remind you of the promise you made. I know it might be too much to ask, considering you'll have your own rites of passage to follow in your next lives, but I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't important. I know you're a man of your word._

_In all my lives, you have been the only one to give me the greatest gift of all - comprehension and unconditional love. Thank you._

_Yours, Klaus_

It is because of that love that Elijah has gone through so much trouble to make sure today would happen. It's not what Niklaus asked of him, how could he? He had no idea that, after a reborn dies, he goes back into the world as a normal person, back to what he was always meant to be, a part of the unmovable story. Klaus was born the exact same day, same city, to the same parents, but with no recollection of any of his previous lives. Now, he's like anybody else. And he'll remain so for the rest of eternity.

In a way, he did die. The Niklaus he knew is gone, for good. The new one is a shadow-self, same heart, same mind, but still not the same person. It broke Elijah's heart a little bit, the first time they met, not a single trace of recognition in Klaus' grey eyes. But there is no better way to honor his friend's memory than to give him what he wanted more than anything, what he chased so relentlessly, at the expense of his own sanity, his own happiness, for so many years: an entire lifetime with Caroline Forbes.

When a reborn returns to the timeline as an ordinary human being, there is no way to know whether they'll find their way back to the anchor. More often than not, it doesn't happen, mostly because what brings them to the anchors in the first place is their very reborn nature. Klaus was only ever on the train to Cardiff on the 21st of April of 2018 because he wanted to investigate his family's past. If there is no past to be investigated, why would he ever board that train? Most people go through their lives never meeting their soul mates, and it's no different with reformed reborns. Maybe they would eventually meet, one day. Who knows what the natural course of Klaus' life would be like? But in the most likely case that he wouldn't, Elijah decided to give it a little push by making sure to place him on that train, on that exact seat, right across from the love of all his past lives.

There's a chance nothing will happen. Frankly, Elijah's afraid to find out what the outcome will be - which is probably why he's so nervous. It's almost like he can feel past Niklaus' anxiety creeping up on him. But his instincts tell him otherwise. Those two were like forces of nature when put together. Nothing will be able to stop them now.

Now that Klaus is a normal person, Caroline's no longer an anchor. If they do get together, she won't die. That will be Elijah's final gift to his friend. All Klaus wanted was for him to promise that he'd help Caroline, donate money to her projects at the museum, pave the way for her career rise, make sure she was happy. He wanted her to be cared for after he was gone, for his love to echo into the next life, when he - technically - is no longer there.

Well, he'll get a little bit more than that.

Elijah only wishes Klaus had heeded his advice and worn a suit today instead of his classic combination of Henley's and dark jeans.

At least the coat looks expensive. That's something, he reckons.

"You are representing our firm, Niklaus, I do not need to remind there are standards we are expected to meet."

"Elijah, the day I start paying 5 thousand pounds on suits like you do, please admit me into a mental institution."

"It's a 9 thousand pounds suit. Please, I'm not a barbarian."

Klaus laughs shortly, picking up his messenger bag. "I'm all set here."

"Take the tube. There might be traffic. You can't miss the train."

"Oh, bloody hell."

"Also, remember not to rush the conversations. Be as thorough as you need, take your time. If it gets late and you don't feel like coming back today, take a room at a hotel and bill us later. I recommend the Hyatt. They have a lovely rooftop restaurant with a marvelous view of the bay."

Klaus frowns. "Are you sure you did not hit your head this morning?"

"Nonsense. I'm perfectly fine."

"Right. Well. I'll let you know when I confirm that you've wasted my time and the firm's resources so you can get yelled at by the other partners."

"Perfect," Elijah says, clapping his hands once. "Do remember to take an umbrella with you."

"It's not raining."

He smiles fondly at his friend. "It will."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It's 9:47 in the morning, the train hasn't even departed yet and already Klaus is peeved.

This is going to be a disgraceful waste of perfectly good work time he could spend doing, you know,  _anything else_. Serving coffee wouldn't be as useless as spending three hours on a train to Cardiff for an interview with a witness he'll surely dismiss in less than two minutes. Klaus has no idea why Elijah is being so meticulous about this case, although he is known for coming up with leads and theories that make seemingly no sense whatsoever, but turn out to be the correct ones. It's almost as though he's got some supernatural source of privileged information - which Klaus has tried to extract from him several times, all to no avail. Elijah just smirks and says,  _"I've no idea what you could possibly be talking about, Niklaus"_.

It's entirely possible this inexplicable trip to Cardiff will turn out to be one of those cases and Elijah will be waiting for him back at the office with one of his insufferable smug smiles, but if that is so, it will be a hell of a plot twist. Absolutely  _nothing_  indicates even the slightest hint of possibility of this witness being of any interest to their case. No amount of digging through the depths of the internet or his long chain of informants within the police could offer him hope. Elijah must've lost his mind for good.

Klaus is going through his notes for the case again, trying to find anything he might have overseen or dismissed too quickly before, when there's an agitation by the door. He lifts his head for a second and finds an awfully wet lady, obviously quite disgruntled, fighting with her coat and trying to dry some of her hair. Klaus should thank Elijah's freaky sixth sense for reminding him to take an umbrella as well.

The kerfuffle doesn't grapple more than two seconds of his attention, though, and soon Klaus is back to analyzing his notes. Until the kerfuffle comes to sit right across from him.

He notices the pinch between her eyebrows, how pursed her lips are, the way her nostrils flare when she exhales angrily. Klaus is sympathetic. He thought his day was terrible, but clearly she's having an even worse time.

When she catches his eyes staring at her, she offers him a stilted smile. Polite even in the face of disaster. Now that is something Klaus can admire - because he sure as hell would never be bothered to keep any resemblance of civility if he'd been in her place.

"Oh,  _come on_ ," she mutters under her breath, punching her very dead phone with angry fingers. "Shit."

Klaus sighs. Normally, he'd just look the other way and pretend he wasn't even there. He's got enough problems of his own and life is way too short for him to bother being nice to strangers. But something about that girl's misery has managed to touch his disdainful heart. She looks like she could really use a friend. Sometimes, all it takes to improve someone's day is an unexpected act of kindness. Klaus has no idea where he got that nonsense from, but the thought just comes to his mind and sticks.

"Here," he says, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Use mine."

The woman glances from Klaus' face to the phone, probably considering how much of a creep he might be. Women like her are usually distrustful of men like him, and for good reason. She's smart to be cautious.

"It's all right, love," he says, putting the phone on the small table between their sits and pushing it towards her so she won't even have to touch him. "Go ahead."

She bites on the corner of her lip and, with a sigh of relief, takes the mobile. "Thank you. It will only be a minute, I promise."

"Take your time."

He looks away to give her as much privacy for her conversation as he possibly can, but he can't help but overhear some of the things she's saying. Her rapid American vowels are too compelling. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watches as she combs her fingers through her wet hair, her brow creasing in displeasure as she tries to untangle some of the mess the weather has made of her perfectly arranged do.

She probably spent hours getting ready for the meeting she's discussing about on the phone; she's certainly very elegantly dressed, a look that says sharp professionalism but also grace. Only now she's all wet, her hair is undone and there's a tiny smudge of mascara on the corner of her eyes. Poor thing.  
Klaus feels a tiny little grin dancing on the corner of his lips. For some reason, he thinks it's endearing to see this person he's never met before so obviously thrown out of her comfort zone. She should know she still looks stunning and would turn heads wherever she goes.

"Thank you so much," she says, returning his phone once she's done with the call, more relaxed now.

"No problem," he replies. "It seemed important."

"Yeah, it was. I got held up at work this morning and - anyway. It's boring stuff, but I had to let someone know that I'll be late for this important thing. So thank you very much, that was very kind of you."

Klaus smiles. "I'm Klaus," he says, putting one hand out for her to shake.

"Caroline." It's the strangest thing, but when she takes his hand - Klaus could swear he felt something like a déjà vu. "I'm sorry," Caroline continues, narrowing her eyes at him and holding on to his hand for a little longer than necessary. "Have we met before? It's so weird, I think... There's something familiar about you."

It's like having a word on the tip of your tongue and not managing to reach it. He can feel something sparkling to life on the back of his head, something big and important, but it just won't come to him. He can't place her face anywhere, doesn't remember ever meeting another Caroline - and his memory is faultless, he never forgets a face, much less one as pretty as hers. But there's just something... Even the sound of her voice seems to awake a strange feeling of nostalgia in him. Everything about her feels familiar, comforting - like he  _should_  know her. Except he doesn't.

"I don't think so," he says, vaguely. "I wouldn't forget you."

"Right," she says, chuckling, shifting slightly on her seat and pulling a lock of blond hair behind her ear.

"That's a beautiful name, by the way," he continues. "Caroline."

"It's my mother's middle name. And my middle name is my mother's first name. We're not a very creative bunch in Virginia, I guess - and I have no idea why I just told you all that, you didn't ask. And now I can't stop talking. It's this thing that I do when I get stressed out - I open my mouth and things just start pouring out, I can't even - you know what, I'm just gonna shut up now." She snaps her mouth shut for just a second, and then, "But thank you. For the phone. And the compliment."

Klaus laughs.

"Please, do not stop on my account. Talk away. I'm a very good listener."

No, he isn't. He's impatient and judgmental, but right now he can't think of anything else he'd rather do than listen to that girl talk.

And just like that, Klaus is hooked.

**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The lyrics at the beginning are from iIn My Veins/i, by Andrew Belle.
> 
> 2\. Since someone asked, for the sake of the story, let's pretend Katherine and Tatia aren't exactly the same, just really, really similar, like some completely unrelated people sometimes are.
> 
> 3\. I obviously had to give Elijah a different last name, since he's not related to Klaus in this story.
> 
> 4\. It's totally possible that the numbers aren't totally accurate here. I did some calculations, but there are SO MANY THINGS to pair in terms of timeline here that I may have gotten confused. Numbers aren't really my strong suit. Sorry!
> 
> 5\. Elijah is a post-conviction attorney because I was obsessed with Making a Murderer season 2 as I wrote this, wishing that I'd gone to law school. That is the only reason.
> 
> 6\. I think I still prefer the original finale over this one, even though I think this turned out a lot better than I thought. But the other one is VERY sobby.


	4. Alternative Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like I said before, this is the original finale I wrote, which is now the alternative ending to the story. It's really just a different epilogue. Keep in mind that this is not what you would call a happy ending per se.
> 
> Since I abandoned this version, it didn't go through a thorough editing process, so there might be a lot more mistakes and such than normal. I apologize! If you do decide to read it, let me know what you think. :) Thanks again to everyone who did read this story!

**Epilogue**

Caroline Forbes is weeks away from the most important opening night of her entire career. Her name is on every single invitation sent to each of the over 300 high-profile guests. Even the Queen has been invited, although Caroline's been told by multiple sources (more than once, because she made sure to ask  _everyone_ ) that she isn't likely to come. But someone else from the palace still might, which doesn't help calming her nerves at all.

Hers is the mind behind all the tiniest details in the preparation for the inauguration of the new gallery at the museum. She has single-handedly moved every piece of the puzzle, from planning, to fund-raising, to development, to curation. Personally spoke to all the patrons, negotiated the pieces, worked with the curators and even some of the artists. This exhibition is her baby, by far the most arduous, stressing and overwhelming job she's ever had, but it will pay off - assuming everything works out fine, of course. Whether this exhibition flops or triumphs, it will be a watershed in her career, for better or for worse. Rumor has it, it might even put het as frontrunner for the position of Managing Director in a couple of years.

_Youngest_  managing director in the history of the Tate, mind you. But let's not get overexcited.

She's been working nonstop for months. Sleep has become something that happens to other people. The anxiety is building up, making her nervous and frantic and borderline insane at times. It's a blessing that she's got such a loving partner offering her support and tea at home. Caroline doesn't know how she'd be able to handle everything and still function somewhat normally if it wasn't for her boyfriend; sometimes, he is legit the only thing keeping her from spinning out of control.

She needs to remember to reward Stefan for being so patient when this is all over. Maybe vacations somewhere sunny and warm.

Opening night is her main concern, of course, but today is making her particularly antsy as well. There's an important visit, one whose opinion will be a strong indication on whether she'll succeed or fail.

He arrived about an hour before and has since been joined by the museum CEO, who's personally showing him around the new gallery and introducing him to the concepts behind the entire exhibition. Caroline was adamantly against the idea of having him see the place four weeks before the opening night. There's so much yet to be done, they're not even close to being ready for critics to come and take a look around, especially one as important as Elijah Michaels, the museum's greatest patron, responsible for over 80% of the funds that allowed Caroline to even take this exhibition off the paper. If it wasn't for her, there'd be nothing to see.

Well, technically, Mr. Michaels merely invests a fat amount of money that, according to him, was left by someone else. A Mr. Niklaus Mikaelson. Everything he donates and every investment he makes is in his name. Which is why the new gallery is called the Klaus Mikaelson Gallery - Elijah insisted on it when the CEO offered to name if after him.  _"He hated his given name. Use Klaus, please."_

Caroline's done a lot of research on Klaus Mikaelson, this angel who has made her life so much easier throughout the years by always conveniently pouring money into her ideas for the museum, but there's absolutely nothing. It's like he never existed.

Elijah said he died a long time ago, but left very specific orders as to how to spend his fortune. Caroline thinks maybe Klaus isn't really the man's real name, because there's not even a record of a Niklaus Mikaelson ever being born or dying in England. Strange, if you think how rich he was. Perhaps it's someone who'd rather remain anonymous. Which is totally fine by her, of course. She just wishes there was a way she could thank the man for all he's done for the museum and the art world in general (and herself in particular). Even if that meant sending flowers to a cemetery.

The tour of the unfinished gallery takes about forty minutes through which Caroline can barely keep her nerves in check. Good thing she's a pro at keeping her poker face undisturbed. To all effects, she's as cool as an ice cube on the outside; inside, she's burning like a volcano about to erupt.

When Elijah Michaels and the CEO start laughing at something, Caroline freezes from head to toe in alarm before relaxing. That's a good sign, right? It has to be. He looks entertained. Entertained is good. Right?

Caroline hasn't been with Mr. Michaels many times, but she admires him so much. He has such a statuesque kind of elegance to him, the type that leaves no doubt about how much of a heartbreaker he used to be in his tender years. Caroline believes he must be in his 60s now, but his fragile health makes him seem older still and every time he comes around, it's like a decade has gone by. Lately, he has been in and out of hospitals a lot. They needed a wheelchair for him this time. He seems as delicate as a twig, the poor thing, like a wind gust could blow him away. Such a pity. All the conversations Caroline's had with him were so much fun. He's a pleasure to be around, can turn formal, business meetings into casual tea parties between old friends. Such an impressive figure, with so much knowledge of art and history, so much passion.

The CEO leaves the two of them together, alone, after a last round of thank yous once the tour is over. Caroline watches in silence as he positions his chair outside the gallery and stares up at the huge bronze plate they placed above the entrance. Klaus Mikaelson Gallery, it says. He smiles fondly at it, his eyes distant and unfocused as though his mind is traveling far, far away.

She's afraid of interrupting him, but also a little mesmerized by how genuinely affectionate he looks in that moment. Whoever he was, Klaus certainly meant something to Elijah.

"You've done a marvelous job here, Ms. Forbes," he finally speaks, his eyes cutting back to Caroline.

"Ah... Well. Thank you," she stammers, smiling. An enormous weight is suddenly lifted from her chest and she finally lets out a breath that she'd been holding since Elijah arrived. "Did you enjoy the tour?"

"I would've preferred if I'd been joined by you," he says, grinning. "But I understand there are certain hierarchical rules when it comes to pampering important people."

Caroline snorts and holds back the laughter. Can't really blame him; the CEO is a wonderful man, but he can be very excessive in his wordiness and proselytism when he thinks he needs to impress.

"But anyway," Elijah continues. "I wanted to congratulate you for what you've done. Money very well invested, indeed."

"Thank you, Mr. Michaels. It means a lot to me."

"I know. Which is why I wanted to tell you in person," he smiles again, that caretaker smile that makes Caroline feel she can trust this man with her life if she has to. "But call me Elijah, please. My name sounds beautiful on your accent."

Caroline chuckles, maybe even blushes a little, and joins him in admiring the plate above the gallery.

There's a long spell of quietness, during which Caroline is finally able to relax a little, knowing that her major donor, or the person representing his interests anyway, has approved what she did with their humongous contribution. A small step for men, a giant leap towards the Managing Director office.

"Do you remember him?" Elijah says after a while, his eyes focused on the plate.

"Remember who?"

"Niklaus."

Caroline frowns, wondering if maybe his disease has been affecting him more deeply than she imagined. He knows it's impossible for her to remember Klaus. They never met.

"I'm afraid we never met," she says anyway.

Elijah smiles again, something between amusement and pity.

"Yes, you did," he says. "A long time ago. On a train ride."

And that is... "What?" Caroline asks, eyebrows arched in surprise. Elijah laughs, apparently entertained by the look of utter horror on her face. Train ride? A long time ago? How is that...?

Caroline doesn't know whether she's more embarrassed or confused. If she has indeed met Mr. Mikaelson, doesn't that make her an awful person for not remembering him? All this time he's been donating money to sponsor her causes within the museum and not once did Caroline ever consider the possibility that Klaus Mikaelson was more than a complete stranger with a fervent passion for modern art. Her mind starts instantly reeling back to all the millions of train rides she's taken before, but she cannot remember a single person she's ever become acquainted or exchanged more than a few hurried words with on a train.

"Oh God," she says, genuinely aghast to admit she has no idea. "I'm so sorry. I feel horrible."

"Don't," Elijah says. "I didn't expect you to. It was a very long time ago, almost in a different lifetime. You wouldn't remember. I just asked because..." His eyes move away from her, back to the plate, and then he shrugs. "Well. Just confirming a theory."

"I feel awful," Caroline repeats. "I've always wanted to meet him and now I know that I did but I can't remember. But didn't you say he's... ?"

"Dead? Yes. Unfortunately. He passed away a very long time ago. But he never forgot you," he says, eyes moving back to her with that same sort of warm intensity to them. "He left very specific orders as to what to do with his fortune. And his orders were to take care of you." He pauses, and then, "Of your work, of course. He knew how talented you were and that you were destined for great things. And he wanted me to help you whichever way I could. So all this," Elijah gesticulates towards the gallery. "All the money I've invested on his behalf throughout the years, it was all for you, Ms. Forbes. No one else. Just you."

And that is just... Caroline is suddenly bereft of words. Someone she has no recollection of having once met on a train ride has donated millions of pounds to sponsor her work because he saw something in her. How is that even possible? How can she not remember that person? God, she is such a terrible, terrible human being...

Caroline feels a strange ache in her heart, like she's suddenly missing something. A point, a memory, or something else entirely, something much bigger, and she can't tell what it is. It's like having a name on the tip of her tongue and still not being able to reach it.

"I'm afraid I don't have much more time left," Elijah says, and for a second Caroline thinks he's telling her he has to go somewhere else, for some other appointment - but then she understands. That's not what he meant. Elijah Michaels is dying. "But I want you to remember, Ms. Forbes. Even if you can't remember his face, at least remember his name. Know that there was once a man named Klaus Mikaelson whom you touched in ways you can't even imagine. I promised him you'd know that. And now you do."

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," Elijah replies, turning his wheelchair around and smiling at her one last time before leaving. "Just make him proud."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Whenever Caroline has five minutes of her extremely busy time to spare, she finds herself back at the gallery entrance, staring up at that bronze plate. She's been doing it a lot since Elijah's visit. The rational side of her brain knows it makes no sense, that she may well be losing her mind, but the rest of her still hopes to spark a memory back into life.

Caroline wants  _so hard_  to remember Klaus Mikaelson. She's tried everything to jog her memory but hypnosis, and even that hasn't been discarded yet. A train ride is so vague. Caroline's been up and down the country so many times it's hard to even remember all the times she was on a train, let alone strangers who might have traveled with her. For whatever reason, her mind keeps pulling her back to a trip to Cardiff almost a decade ago. All she remembers is being extremely miserable during that ride; it was pouring down, she did not have an umbrella, almost missed the train and her phone died. It was a hellish day, which is probably why she remembers it so well. But she does not remember talking to anyone on that ride. She gathers it would've probably not been a very pleasant conversation anyway, considering the mood she was in. She'd remember if she'd met someone on such an unfortunate day, right? Especially one as passionate about art as this Klaus person apparently was. No, Caroline is pretty sure there was no one, she sat alone the whole time.

She asked Elijah for a picture of Klaus, but he only offered Caroline the saddest of smiles and said there were none. There's so much mystery about this man, like he's a fairy tale, not a real person. Elijah is apparently the only one who knew him, and even he doesn't have any records of his existence. None that he wishes to share, anyway.

Ok, so maybe Caroline has become a  _little_  bit obsessed since Elijah's visit. Can anyone blame her? She's expanded her research to outside of England, went through all the museum documents on Elijah's donations - which only conveniently started  _after_  Caroline's admission -, contacted her friends from other galleries and foundations to see whether any of them had any info to share on this eccentric millionaire with a passion for the arts. It all returned blank.  _Someone_  has to know him, but no one does. And the more cryptic it gets, the more curious Caroline becomes, more time she spends staring at that plate, the only physical thing connecting her to Klaus.

She's started to feel very protective of it. If it really is all there is left of Klaus Mikaelson on this earth, a name above a museum gallery, then she'll make sure it becomes a token of his existence. She had a second, smaller plate added to the wall next to the entrance. There isn't much she can say about him, unfortunately, but  _'A man who dedicated his life to art and believing in dreams'_  seems very appropriate. That's all anyone needs to know about him - he lived, he loved and he made Caroline's dreams possible. Now everyone can share a little bit of that by coming to visit the gallery and reading his name on a wall.

"You are brilliant!"

Caroline blinks out of her musings, her eyes cutting back to the figure approaching her, smiling from ear to ear.

Stefan has just been to the gallery, one of the very few people Caroline allowed a sneak peek before the official opening, tomorrow. She figured her boyfriend deserved a preview, after everything he had to endure over the last few months.

"Seriously. It's amazing," Stefan says, placing both his hands on Caroline's shoulder and squeezing it affectionately. "I haven't seen anything like this in all the time I've been here. You're going to a star by tomorrow night."

Caroline rolls her eyes at him. "Ok, you're very sweet, I get it. You don't have to exaggerate."

"I'm not! Caroline, I'm being serious. This is huge. I am so proud of you." Stefan leans forward and smashes their lips together. Usually, there'd be nothing much to it - they're alone at the gallery, late at night, museum's closed... Caroline likes to keep it professional at work, but no one's going to berate them for a little kiss. Except there's just something... She feels strange kissing Stefan in that space, under that plate.

Caroline pushes him gently back. "Stefan," she drawls his name as an admonishment.

"No one can see us. We could bang here right now and no one would know. In fact -"

" _Stefan_ ," she repeats more firmly, nodding towards the cameras, even though those are definitely not the eyes she feels boring holes onto her back. It's as though the plate can see them. She's going crazy, right? All that obsession over Klaus Mikaelson, all the sleepless nights and the stress of the grand opening are finally taken a toll on her. "Everyone would know."

"Everyone knows about us, they wouldn't mind."

"I'm glad they know, not so glad they can see us."

Stefan gives her a dramatic eye roll and steps away, coming to stand side to side with Caroline, facing the plate. "All right, then. But your work here is over. You need to go home and rest for your big night tomorrow. And I really need to make out with my girlfriend, because it's been a while and I miss her." Stefan says it without an inch of resentment, but Caroline feels bad nonetheless. They've shared a bed only in theory for the last month or so because they're barely ever there at the same time. She's been spending more time with that plate lately than she does with Stefan, but not once did he complain or accuse her of negligence. He is a saint. "Can we go?"

"Yes," Caroline says, grinning. "Just give me a minute and I'll be right outside with you."

Stefan shows her his watch, cocking a pointed eyebrow at his girlfriend. "Sixty seconds or I'll come back here and drag you out, Forbes."

Once she's left alone again, Caroline takes a deep breath and sweeps the room around with hawk eyes one last time. Everything's in order, everything is  _perfect_. Tomorrow will be a hit, Stefan wasn't just sucking up to her. Everyone who's taken a look at the exhibition and the material they've prepared for it has said so, even people who have been working for ages at the museum. They know a successful exhibition when they see one. Caroline won't be completely at ease at least until after tomorrow night is over and done with, but she is finally able to breathe and go home and have eight hours of sleep at last. Well, she can try, anyway.

She stops by the plate again and is immediately filled with that sensation of not being alone in the room. Not in a bad way, though. It's not an uncomfortable or oppressive presence, it's just... Warm. Like getting a hug. She should hire some ghost hunters to check the area for spirits.

"If you can hear me," she says, really low so no one else listens. It's just her and the plate. "Whoever you are... Thank you. I hope I made you proud."

There's something like a breeze or a light wind, only it's not really that because there are no open windows, and it doesn't blow anything, not her jacket, not the exhibition flyers stacked on a pile. Only she can feel it. As though her skin is being caressed by the lightest of touches.

She really does need to get some sleep. This is starting to mess with her head.

Caroline takes one final look at the plate, wishes Elijah could be here to see it. He won't come tomorrow; he's at the hospital again. Caroline plans on stopping by later to see him, maybe even before the event, if she can manage. She's made a video of the finished room to show him. Mostly, she just wants him to say whether he thinks Klaus would be happy with that she's done. None of the praise she might receive will matter to her without Elijah's (and consequently Klaus') approval.

She wants Elijah to know that she will keep his word. Getting noticed, moving up on the professional ranks, receiving a recommendation for the position of managing director... That's all very neat. But Caroline has a different goal now. There's something else to all the effort she's put into the last four weeks, since Elijah was last here. And it's probably why everything's turned out so magnificently. Why this exhibition is, more than anything, so full of soul and character.

Whoever Klaus Mikaelson was, he won't be forgotten. Caroline will make sure of that.

**The End.**


End file.
